
QCTDICQ t Issued Quarterly. 

O OLlivIHO f Subscription $1.00. 

OCTOBER, 1894. 


No. 37. 


'v,t. 


V-' * 



Entered at the Chi cago Postoffice as second-cla ss mail matter. 





















































DENISON’S ACTING PLAYS. 

ALTA SERIES, Price 25 Cents Each, Postpaid. All Others 15 Cents Each. 


M. F. 


All that Glitters is not Gold, com¬ 
edy, 2 acts. 2 hrs. 6 

A Very Pleasant Ev farce, 30 m... 3 

Assessor, sketch, 10 min. 3 

Babes in Wood, burlesque, 25 m. 4 
Borrowing Trouble, farce, 20 min. 3 

Bad Job, farce, 30 min. 3 

Bumble’s Courtship, sketch, 18 m. 1 
Bardell vs. Pickwick, farce, 2$ m.. 6 
Christmas Ship, musical, 20 min... 4 
Caste, comedy, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 30 m. 5 
Cow that Kicked Chicago, 20 m... 3 
Country Justice, farce, 15 min.... S 

Circumlocution Office, 20 min. 6 

Chimney Corner, drama, \ acts, 1 

hr., 30 min. 5 

Cut off with a Shilling, farce, 23 m 2 
Danger Signal,drama, 2 acts, 2 hrs. 7 
Desperate Situation, farce, 25 min. 2 
East Lynne, drama, 5 acts, 2 hrs.. S 

Fair Encounter, 20 min. o 

Family Strike, farce, 20 min. 3 

Fruits of Wine Cup, temperance 

drama, 3 acts, 1 hr. 6 

Friendly Move, sketch, 20 min. . 5 

Home, comedy. 3 acts, 2 hrs. 4 

Homoeopathy, farce. 30 min. 5 

Hans Von Smash, farce. 30 min... 4 
Hard Cider, temperance. 15 min. 4 
Initiating a Granger, farce, 25 min. S 

In the Dark, farce, 25 min. 4 

In the Wrong House, farce, 20 m. 4 
Irish Linen Peddler, farce, 40 thin. 3 
Is the Editor In, farce, 20 min.... 4 

I’ll Stay Awhile, farce, 20 min.... 4 

Ici on Parle Francais, farce, 40 m.. 4 
I’m not Mesilf at All, farce, 25 m. 3 

John Smith, farce, 30 min. 5 

Just my Luck, farce, 20 min. 4 

Kansas Immigrants, farce,20 m... 5 

Kiss in the Dark, farce, 30 m. 2 

Louva the Pauper, drama, 3 acts, 1 

hr. 43 min. 9 

Love and Rain, 20 min.... 1 

Larkins’ Love Letters, farce, 50 m. 3 
Lady of Lyons, 5 acts. 2 hrs. 30 m. 8 

Limerick Boy, farce, 30 min. 3 

Lost in London, drama, 3 acts, 1 h. 

45 min. 6 

London Assurance, comedy, 5 acts, 

2 hrs. 30 min. 9 

Lucky Sixpence, farce, 30 min.... 4 
Lucy’s Old Man, sketch, 15 min.. 2 
Michael Erie, drama, 2 acts, 1 hr. 

30 min. 8 

Mike Donovan, a farce, 15 min.. . 1 

Mitsu-Yu Nissi, Japanese Wed¬ 
ding, 1 hr., 13 min. 6 

Model of a Wife, farce, 25 min.... 3 

Movement Cure, farce, 15 min. 5 

Mrs Gamp’s Tea, sketch, 15 min. o 

Misses Beers, farce, 25 min. 3 

My Wife’s Relations, comedy, 1 hr 4 

My Jeremiah, farce, 20 min. 3 

My Turn Next, farce. 50 min. 4 

My Neighbor’s Wife, farce, 45 min 3 
Not Such a Fool as He Looks, com- 
edy, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 5 


3 

o 

2 

3 
S 
2 

1 

2 

3 
.1 
2 
o 
o 

2 

1 

4 

3 
7 

2 

3 

4 
o 

3 

3 

3 

2 

o 

2 

2 

3 

2 
o 

3 

2 

3 

3 

1 

3 

4 

1 

2 

4 

2 


3 

2 

3 

3 

3 

6 

2 

o 

2 

3 
6 

2 

3 
3 


M. F. 
4 2 


On Guard, farce, 25 min. 

Only Daughter, drama, 3 acts, 1 

Hr. 15 min. 5 2 

Our Country, drama, 3 acts, 1 hr.. 10 3 
Odds with Enemy, 5 acts, 2 hrs.... 7 4 

On the Brink, temperance drama, 

2 acts, 2 hrs. 12 3 

Out in the Streets, 1 h. 15 min.. .. 64 

Pet of Parsons’ Ranch, frontier 

drama, 5 acts, 2 hrs.... 9 

Pets of Society, farce, 30 min. o 

Pull Back, farce, 20 min. o 

Pocahontas, musical burlesque, 1 hr 10 

Parlor Entertainment, 25 min. 2 5 

Played and Lost, sketch, 15 min... 3 2 

Persecuted Dutchman, 35 min.... 6 3 

Quiet Family, farce, 45 min. 4 4 

Regular Fix, farce, 50 min. 6 4 

Rough Diamond, farce, 40 min..:. 4 3 

Silent Woman, farce, 25 min. 2 1 

Solon Shingle, comedy, 1 hr. 30 m.. 7 2 

Soldier of Fortune, comedy, 5 acts, 

2 hrs. 20 min. 

Seth Greenback, drama, 4 acts, 1 

hr. 15 min.. 

Schoolma’am (The), drama, 4 acts, 

1 hr. 45 min. 

Slasher and Crasher, 1 hr. 15 min.. 
Squeers’ School, sketch, iS min... 
Sparkling Cup, temperance drama 

5 acts, 2 hrs. .. 

Taming a Tiger, farce, 20 min ... 

That Rascal Pat. farce, 3$ min ... 

Too Much Good Thing, 50 min,.. 
Twenty Minutes Under an Um¬ 
brella, 20 min. 

Two Gents in a Fix, farce, 20 min. 

Two Puddifoots, farce, 40 min 
Ticket of Leave Man, drama, 4 

acts, 2 hrs. 45 min. 

Turn Him Out, farce, 50 min. 

Toodles, drama, 2 acts, 1 hr. 15 m. 

Ten Nights in a Barroom, tem¬ 
perance drama, 5 acts, 2 hrs... 

Two Ghosts in White, sketch 25 m 
Uncle Dick’s Mistake, farce, 20 m. 

Under the Laurels, drama, 5 acts, 

x hr. 43 min.. 

Wanted a Correspondent, farce, 1 h 
Wide Enough for Two, farce, 50 m 
Which Will He Marry farce,30 m 
Won at Last, comedy, 3 acts, 1 hr. 

45 m . 7 3 

Wonderful Letter, farce 25 min.. 4 1 

Women of l.owenburg, historical 

sketch, 5 scenes, 50 min. 10 10 

Wooing Under Difficulties, 35 min. 4 3 
Yankee Detective, 3 acts, 2 hrs ... 8 3 

ALTA SERIES—25c. each. 

Beggar Venus, play, 2 hrs. 30 nun. 6 

Early Vows, comedy, 1 hr. 4 

From Sumter to Appomattox, mili¬ 
tary play, 2 hrs. 30 min ... 6 

Shadow Castle, play, 2 hrs. 30 min. 5 
Jedediah Judkins, comedy, 2 h. 30 m. 7 
Uncle Josh, comedy, 2 hrs.8 


5 3 

7 3 

6 5 
5 2 
4 2 


12 4 
3 o 
3 2 
3 ^ 


1 

2 

3 


11 
o 


s 

4 

5 

2 


1 

o 

3 

3 

3 

2 


4 

4 
2 

5 


£ T. S. DENISON. Publisher, 163 Randolph St., Chicago, f 


tj (Jwrc/j 


































































DOWN IN DIXIE 

A DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS 


BY 

V 


CHARLES TOWNSEND 

%* 

AUTHOR OF 


‘ Uncle Josh.” “Rio Grande"The Mountain Waif” “ Spy of Gettysburg," “ Early 
Vows *• On Guard," "Finnigan's Fortune," “ The Man from Maine," "The 
Jail Bird," "Golden Gulch," “Deception," "Tony the Convict." 

“ The Woven Web," “ Moses," “Shaun Aroon," “ The Iron 
Hand “ The Doctor" “ Under a Cloud," “ Bor¬ 
der Land,' “Broken Fetters," "Vacation," 

"A Breezy Call," "Miss Madcap," 

"Stella," "Capt. Racket." 


AUTHOR’S EDITION 


CHICAGO 

T. S. DENISON, Publisher 
163 Randolph St. 





DOWN IN DIXIE. 

- ? S3ds; 


CAST OF CHARACTERS. 


i ^ 3 ^ 
\ ** 


Harvey Wells, a Colonel in the Federal Army. 
George Washington Bangs, a Herald Reporter. 
Major Bradley, of the Confederate Army. 
Corporal Hooligan, a “ True-Blue ” vet. 

Hon. C. J. Dusenberry, a Member of Congress. 
Hezekiah Sniffins, a Degenerate Yankee. 

Uncle Mosley, a Faithful Slave. 

Billings, Bradley’s Henchman. 

Helen Trevoir, a Southern Heiress. 

Molly Martin, her Lively Friend. 

Mrs. Dusenberry, a Business Woman. 

Susannah, “Jis a Brack Nigger.” 


Act I.—Washington, 1861. War. “Your way lies to 
the north, mine to the south.” 

Act II.—The Trevoir Plantation, Virginia, 1864. Cap¬ 
tured. “Betrayed! Betrayed by her!" 

Act III.—Libby Prison, Richmond, 1865. Freedom. 
“Now what do you think of a Yankee’s love?” 

Act IV.—The Trevoir Plantation, 1865. (A lapse of a 
week). Peace. “And the star-spangled banner in triumph 
still waves o’er the land of the free and the home of the 
brave.” 

Note. —The publisher expressly reserves the acting rights of this play. 
By special arrangement, however, amateurs are free to perform it without 
further notice. 


Copyright, 1894, by T. S. Denison. 







DOWN IN DIXIE. 


3 


COSTUMES. 

Harvey. —Act I.—Street Dress. Act II.—Uniform of 
U. S. colonel of cavalry: top boots, soft hat, gloves and 
saber. Act III.—Ragged shirt and trousers, no coat nor 
hat, cheeks sunken, pale, hair long, face unshaven. Act 
IV. — Hair cut, clean shaven, wears cheap but comfort¬ 
able suit. 

Bangs —Rather eccentric throughout. 

Bradley —Act I.—Street dress. In the remaining acts 
wears uniform of major C. S. A. 

Corporal —Fatigue uniform U. S. A., except in Act HI., 
when he is dressed and made up the same as Harvey. 

Dusenberry —Old-fashioned dress throughout. 

Sniffins —Close-fitting black dress throughout. 

Billings —Uniform of private, C. S. A. 

Helen— Act I.—Elegant house dress. Act II.—Neat 
riding habit, changing to plain house dress. Act III.— 
Riding Habit. Act IV.—Home dress. 

Molly —Similar to Helen. 

Mrs. Dusenberry— Rather flashily dressed in the first 
act; plainly afterward. 

Susannah —Cheap cotton dress. 


PROPERTIES. 

See also “Scene Plot.” 

Act I.—Newspaper; handkerchief for Helen; note book 
and pencil; large business card; manuscript speech; news¬ 
paper for Bangs. 

Act II.—Newspaper for Mosley; pad and pencil for 
Bangs; whisky bottle; muskets for Hooligan and Billings; 
guns to fire outside; sabers for Harvey and Bradley. 



4 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


Act III.—Old army blanket; piece of bread and sausage; 
small box for Helen; army pass; revolver; piece of cord. 

Act IV.— Knife for Sniffins; pad and pencil for Bangs; 
crash; heavy riding whip; revolver to fire; pitchfork; several 
guns to fire. 


SCENE PLOT. 

Act I.—Elegantly furnished room'in fourth grooves, 
with interior backing in fifth grooves. Doors with heavy 
curtains C. in flat, A. 2 E. } and L . U. E. Carpet and rugs, 
ornaments, etc., ad lib. Handsome table and chairs, R. C. 
Sofa L. C., front. 

Act II.—Lawn in fifth grooves. Wall or fence, with gate 
C., crosses at fourth grooves. Grass cloth down. Wings and 
sinks are trees with cut foliage. Rustic chair A., rustic bench 
L. front. Summer landscape on flat, with sunlight effect. 

Act III.—Rough, cheerless room in fourth grooves (do 
not use the conventional “prison ” set for this scene. Libby 
Prison was not a stone building). Doors L. C. in flat and 
R. 1 E. Rough, dirty table and stools R. front. Stool L. 

Act IV.—Poorly furnished room in fourth grooves. No 
carpets nor rugs. High screen up R., chairs R. and Z., table 
and chairs Z., old sofa R. front, doors C. in flat, R. U. E. 
and Z. 1 E. 


SYNOPSIS FOR PROGRAMMES. 

Act I.—Congressman Dusenberry’s residence at Wash¬ 
ington, spring of 1861. A rude awakening. A rascally 
Yankee and his scheme. Harvey and Helen. The “ old, 
old story.” The rival. Bangs, the reporter, and Molly. 
“War at"last.” Helen’s decision. “Your way lies to the 
north, mine to the south.” 





DOWN IN DIXIE. 


5 


Act II.—The Trevoir Plantation in Virginia, summer of 

1864. Mosley “ Elucidates.” A row in Africa. Helen and 
Molly. Bangs the artist. Sketching. Dusenberry’s acci¬ 
dent. An unexpected meeting. Helen speaks her mind. 
“You are nothing but cruel, wanton savages.” The Yankee 
renegade. The quarrel. Harvey a prisoner. “ Betrayed 
by her !” Exciting Tableau ! 

Act III.—A room in Libby Prison, Richmond, spring of 

1865. The Musical Mick. Irish philosophy. Colonel and 
corporal. “ The only way to kape at all well here is to kape 
sick.” The plan to escape. Foiled. In Bradley’s power. 
The jaws of death. A desperate game. Helen’s bravery. 

Act IV.—Back on the old plantation. What freedom 
means. “ Den I won’t be free—I won't.” Sniffins the rene¬ 
gade. Helen’s faith. The last round. Susannah’s pluck. 
“You kin kill me, massa, but I’ll tell you nuffin.” The 
rescue. Good news. “And the star spangled banner in 
triumph still waves !” Finale. 


REMARKS ON THE PLAY. 

“ Down in Dixie ” is a war play in which the subject is 
treated in a fair and unprejudiced manner. The hero is 
from the North, the heroine from the South, and both are 
splendid types of true-hearted Americans. A Southern 
villain and a Northern scoundrel each figure prominently in 
the story, and the latter is much the worst of the two. We 
dislike Bradley and are glad to see him foiled, but we 
thoroughly despise Sniffins, and when, at the last, he is 
threatened with a coat of tar and feathers, we hope he will 
receive it. 

The action of this play is very rapid, the climaxes are 
powerful —that of the third act being one of the strongest 
ever written—and the characters are drawn with that ac¬ 
curacy always observable in Mr. Townsend’s work. 



6 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


Harvey Wells is a high-spirited, manly young fellow, his 
age at the opening of the play being about 25. In the first 
and second acts no special make-up is required; for the third 
and fourth acts his appearance is described under the head¬ 
ing of “ Costumes." This is a very powerful role, and much 
will be expected from the actor who undertakes it. 

Bangs is a dashing light comedy role, and must be played 
with a great deal of vim. He is quick and energetic in 
speech and action, but particular care must be exercised to 
avoid overdoing it. His age at the beginning is about 21. 

Bradley is about Harvey’s age. He is a gentleman to all 
appearance, but his hard, unyielding nature makes him ex¬ 
ceedingly brutal at times. His make-up is dark, his move¬ 
ments alert, and his manner varies from gentlemanly ease to 
savage brutality. This, too, is a highly important role, and 
should always be in the hands of a thoroughly competent man. 

Hooligan is a middle-aged Irishman, with a rich, mellow 
brogue. The part, though short, has some excellent lines and 
deserves careful study. 

Dusenberry is a man of 50, quiet and easy-going except 
when angry. The drunken scene in the second act requires 
nice handling. He has a grave, dignified “jag," so to speak, 
and his gravity makes the scene all the funnier. 

Sniffins is also about 50. He has the most disagreeable 
role in the play—that of a scheming, rascally Yankee rene¬ 
gade, who would barter his soul for money. This is a “char¬ 
acter" part, and should not be built on comedy lines. People 
laugh at Sniffins because they are pleased to see him get the 
worst of it; therefore the part should be played seriously 
throughout. 

Mosley is an elderly negro. He stoops slightly, has a 
shuffling walk, and should wear a half-bald, gray wig. 

Billings is one of the “poor whites" — an uncouth, 
shambling fellow — a mere tool to perform whatever is re¬ 
quired of him. He should make up sallow—without rouge— 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 7 

to give the face a thin, “hatchet-face” look. Unkempt hair 
and a rather long chin beard will heighten the effect. 

Helen, in the first act, is a girl of 18. She is full of life 
and high spirits, something of a tease, but truthful, honest 
and kind-hearted withal. A true daughter of the Old Do¬ 
minion, her pride of birth outranks everything for a time. 
Her love for Harvey finally triumphs over pride, and then she 
is willing to dare and do anything for his sake. The tremen¬ 
dous scene that closes the third act gives her scope for some 
powerful acting. Helen, like everybody else, believes that 
Harvey is actually the poltroon he appears to be, and the 
change from confidence to doubt—from love to disgust— 
gives an opportunity for the strongest emotional work. Deep, 
quiet intensity will prove by far the most effective way for 
portraying her feelings. 

Molly is a trifle younger than Helen. This is a conven¬ 
tional soubrette role—piquant, jolly and mischievous. Molly 
may sing, dance and “carry on ” generally, as there is not a 
serious thought in anything she does. 

Mrs. Dusenberry is forty at least, and should look every 
y of it. She is a quick-spoken, sharp-voiced, dictatorial 
woman—a direct contrast to her easy-going husband. Ec¬ 
centricity is allowable in a role of this sort, if employed with 
discretion, but the part, of course, must not be caricatured. 

Susannah is a young negro girl of the Topsy class, and 
the role is very laughable until her scene with Bradley in the 
last act. Then her plucky refusal to betray the Federal sol¬ 
diers always wins her a burst of applause. 

With scarcely an exception the characters in this play are 
strictly first-class. This, added to the ease with which it may 
be produced, has given “ Down in Dixie ” a popularity which 
few if any war plays have ever achieved. 


8 


DOWN IN DIXIE 


Act I 




Act II 


Fence 


* Gate K 


Fence 



Act IV 



























DOWN IN DIXIE. 


ACT I. 

Scene. Richly furnished room in fourth grooves , with interior 
backing in fifth grooves. Carpet down. Rugs , ornaments, 
etc ., ad lib. Doors C. in flat L. U. E. and R. 2 E. Dis¬ 
cover Dusenberry asleep on sofa L. front , newspaper over 
face. 

Enter Mrs. Dusenberry, L. U. E. 

Mrs. D. ( Down C.) Mr. Dusenberry! (Looks about.) Mr. 
Dusenberry! Where in the wide world can the man be? (Sees 
him.) Well, I never! (Goes to back of sofa and pulls paper 
away.) Cumberland—Jackson—Dusenberry! Wake up! 
Dus. ( Without stirring. ) Heh ? 

Mrs. D. Cumberland! 

Dus. (Sits up.) Why the dickens couldn’t you let me 
alone? Here I was (yawns) just getting forty winks of sleep 
and you come bawling in my ears like an old cannon. 

Mrs. D. You’re enough to try the patience of an angel. 
(Crosses to R.) 

Dus. Then I’ll never try yours. 

Mrs. D. Hold your tongue! 

Dus. I won't do it. I’m a member of Congress and I 
don’t have to. 

Mrs. D. (Sits R. ) A nice specimen of a Congressman 
you are. Old Virginia should be proud of you. 

Dus. I reckon she is, my dear. If they secede they want 
to send me to the Confederate Congress. 

9 



IO 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


Mrs. D. If they’re fools enough to secede they’re fools 
enough for anything. Here I ve worked and slaved and 
talked my head off to get you elected; and you’ve been here 
a whole month and have never made a speech. 

Dus. They wouldn’t let me, my dear. I never could 
catch the speaker’s eye. And when I complained of it, they 
said you did enough talking for the whole State of Virginia. 

Mrs. D. ( Angrily .) Oh, did they, indeed! Who—who 
said that? 

Dus. I don’t know—everybody, I reckon. 

Mrs. D. (Tartly .) Everybody’s a fool. 

Dus. Present company included. 

Mrs. D. Cumberland Jackson Dusenberry! 

Dus. Yes, my dear. 

Mrs. D. Don’t try to say smart things. It isn’t safe. 
Have you learned that speech I wrote for you? 

Dus. I know some of it. 

Mrs. D. Well, I’ll go and get it and have you practise 
on it. {Rises and goes R.) 

Dus. Oh, don’t! 

Mrs. D. Yes, I shall. You may catch the speaker’s ey., 
to-day. (Pauses.) Have you seen Helen this morning? 

Dus. Yes. She’s out riding with Capt. Wells. Capt. 
Bradley was here, and he looked as black as a thunder cloud 
when I told him where she was. 

Mrs. D. I don’t wonder. That girl is playing fast and 
loose with both those young men. I wish she would marry 
one or the other and be done with it. 

Dus. I hope she won’t marry Bradley. 

Mrs. D. And why not? 

Dus. Because I don’t like him. 

Mrs. D. He’s a great deal nicer than Harvey Wells. 

Dus. He’s smooth enough, of course. Rascals usually 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


11 

Mrs. D. What do you mean ? 

Dus. Nothing in particular. Only if I could buy that 
young man for what he is worth and sell him for what he 
thinks he is worth, I could retire from business. 

Mrs. D. Business? You never did a stroke of business 
in your life. But there! I'm forgetting all about that 
speech. I’ll go and get it. ( Exit R. 2 El) 

Dus. {Rises and crosses to R.) You needn’t hurry back, 
you know. I thought I might talk her into forgetting that 
confounded speech, but it’s no use, no use. ( Leans against 
front of table R. C .) What a pity it is that she wasn’t 
elected to Congress. She’d wake ’em up and no mistake. 
(Sniffins ejiters C. E>., and comes slowly down C.) That 
woman made the mistake of her life in being a woman. She 
ought to have been {sees Sniffins) the deuce! 

Snif. Good morning, sir, how air ye? 

Dus. Well, who in creation are you, sir? 

Snif. Hezekiah Sniffins of Danbury Ct., manufacturer, 
dealer and general contractor. 

Dus. General who? 

Snif. General army contractor. There’s a war coming 
on—the all firedest, hooray boys, war you ever hearn tell on, 
an’ I guess there’s slathers ’n slathers o’ money in it fur 
somebody. 

Dus. I allow it will cost a right smart lot if we get at it. 

Snif. You bet. You’re from Virginny, I guess? 

Dus. I guess I am. {They sit at table R. C .) 

Snif. Keerect. Now I’ve got a scheme. You see, Vir¬ 
ginny won’t hardly dast secede, bein’ as she’s right slap up 
ag’in, Wash’ton. Now you folks down there ain’t in no shape 
for war, bein’ as you haint got shoes ner clothes ner nuthin’. 
Aint that keerect ? 

Dus. I reckon you’re about right. 

Snif. Wall, then, what du you say to a dicker? 


12 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


Dus. What’s a dicker ? 

Snif. Goin’ cahoots. You git onto a supply committee 
and award me the contract to furnish shoes and clothes fur 
the soldiers. I kin make scrap leather shoes with paper 
soles thet’ll go all ter pieces in a day or two, and o’ course 
they’ll hev ter buy more. Then I’ll furnish shoddy clothes 
ez’ll fall apart after the fust rainstorm. Result, ditto. 
Ain’t it great ? 

Dus. Seems to be. 

Snif. Wall, what do you say to it? 

Dus. I don’t say anything to it, but I do say I’m going 
to throw you down-stairs. 

Snif. Eh? Oh, hold on! Let go! Dusenberry w/- 
ars him, drags him up C. and throivs him out. Noise as of a 
man falling down-stair si) 

Dus. (Comes down.) There are some things which even 
a Congressman can’t stand. 

Mrs. D. (Calls off R.) Mr. Dusenberry! 

Dus. (Draws a long breath, “ wilts," turns a?id walks off R. 
2 E. without a word.) 


Enter Harvey and Helen, C. D. 

Helen. (Laughing.) I beat you in, anyway. 

Har. Because you chanced breaking your neck over a 
fence that my horse wouldn’t take. 

Helen. And so you lost the race. (Sits atL. of table.) 

Har. But I won you. 

Helen. (Shaking finger.) Oh, no, you did not. Remem¬ 
ber the terms: Catch me before you get home, and you 
may have me—and that you failed to do. 

Har. But there was nothing said about bolting the road 
and jumping over fences. 

Helen. That makes no difference. You said you would 
catch me, and you failed to do it. Therefore— 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


*3 


Har. {Quietly.') Are you in earnest? 

Helen. To be sure. 

Har. Then I am to understand that you refuse to 
marry me ? 

Helen. Oh, dear! I haven’t said anything about mar¬ 
rying. I’m not even engaged—as yet. 

Har. That’s not my fault, Helen. 

Helen. Really? Then whose is it? 

Har. Your own, to be sure. 

Helen. Mine? Well, I Like that. (Clasps hands a?id 
looks upward with pretended feeling.) Just as if I were not 
dying to be engaged! 

Har. (Impatiently.) Nonsense! See here, Helen, what 
is the use of all this? You know that I love you with all 
the honest love of a true man’s heart. You hold my destiny 
in your hands to make or mar, and yet you refuse to be se¬ 
rious. Answer me—is this treating me fairly? 

Helen. Now you’re getting cross, and I — I — I’m going 
to cry! (Buries face in handkerchief .) 

Har. That’s always the way. Good-bye then, Helen, 
(goes up) and good-bye forever. 

Helen. (Straightens up.) What’s that? 

Har. (At C. D.) Good-bye. 

Helen. Harvey! 

Har. Well? 

Helen. Where are you going? 

Har. I don’t know. To the Cannibal islands, for all I 
care. Good-bye! 

Helen. Harvey! 

Har. What is it ? 

Helen. Come here. (He comes slowly down C., and pauses 
at her side.) Well, (after a pause) why don’t you say 
something ? 

Har. I have nothing to say. 


14 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


Helen. Tell me about the Cannibal islands. Would 
(bashfully )—would a journey there make a pleasant wedding 
trip ? 

Har. Whose wedding trip? 

Helen. {Draws a long breath. ) Ours. 

Har. Ours? {She rises.) Oh, Helen, do you mean it? 
{Embraces her .) 

Helen. {Nods her head rapidly.) 

Har. {Releases her and takes her hands.) I’m the hap¬ 
piest fellow in the world. 

Helen. And do we go to the Cannibal islands? 

Har. {They go R.) Yes, or to the North Pole, or Kam- 
tschatka, or even New Jersey, if you choose, so long as we go 
together. {Exeunt R. 2 E .) 

Enter Bradley, C. D. 

Brad. {Observing them.) I wonder if that means any¬ 
thing? If it does, my chances are not the best in the world. 
The cursed Yankee! If I could only drive him into a 
quarrel I’d make short work of him. {Sits L.) That is the 
most irritating thing about those mudsills—they cannot be 
driven into fighting. 

Enter Bangs, C. D. 

\ 

Bangs. Fighting, eh! Fighting? {Takes note book and 
pencil from pocket.) Give me the facts. Where was the 
battle ? How many were engaged, who commanded the 
forces, and what was the result? Give me all the pointers, 
and I’ll rush it to the paper as fast as lightning can jerk it. 

Brad. {Looks him over.) What seems to be the matter 
with you ? 

Bangs. Matter with me ? Nothing whatever. I’m all 
right, sound as a dollar and right as a trivet from the ground 
up. There’s my card, {hands Bradley a very large one) 
George Washing—Father-of-his-country — Bangs, special 




i 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 15 

war correspondent of the Herald —out for news, all wool and 
a yard wide—see ? 

Brad. Well? 

Bangs. Well! I heard you speak of fighting as I came 
in. Where was it? 

Brad. Nowhere. You don’t suppose the Yankees will 
fight, do you ? 

Bangs. Don’t know. I never suppose. 

Brad. Then what do you think? You sometimes think, 
I dare say. 

Bangs. No, sir, I never think. My business is to have 
no thoughts of my own, but to find out what other people 
think and say and do. You’re an ' army man, captain. 
What’s your opinion of the present row? 

Brad. ( Goes up C.) My opinion is that you fellows had 
better mind your own business. (Exits C. D.) 

Bangs. ( Follows him up, looks off C. D. , then comes slowly 
down R. C., writing as he comes .) “ Capt. Bradley, the south¬ 
ern fire-eater, had no opinion on the threatened war, nor on 
anything else. To our correspondent he remarked” ( stumbles 
over chair ) confound that chair! (Limps to sofa and sits rub¬ 
bing skin.) If I really thought that nobody would hear me, 
I should be tempted to say— damm! 

Enter Mosley, L. U. E. 

Mos. (Down C.) Wonder wha’s de matter wid dat man ? 
I’ll swar I done heah him swore. 

Bangs. (Looks up.) Ah, a specimen of the bone of con¬ 
tention. I’ll interview him. I say, Sambo— 

Mos. Scuse me, massa, but dat ’ar isn’t my cognermatum. 
No, «ah, I’se Mosley, sah, ef yo’ please, sah. 

Bangs. All right. Now answer me. What is your 
opinion of the war ? 

Mos. I dunno, sah. 


i6 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


Bangs. Do you think the South will secede? 

Mos. I dunno, sah. 

Bangs. Do you look upon slavery as a curse to hu 
manity ? 

Mos. I dunno, sah. 

Bangs. (After looking at Mosley.) The intelligence of 
the African is simply paralyzing. Have you any opinions 
on any subject whatever? 

Mos. I dunno, sah. 

Bangs. (Loudly.') You don’t? (Slowly .) Do you like 
watermelons? 

Mos. (Smacks lips.) Watermellins? Oh, yes, sah. 

Bangs. Ah, I touched a responsive chord. (Writes.) Tell 
your master I’m here. Get out. 

Mos. Yes, sah. (Goes R.) Kee! Reckon dat ’ar man 
done didn’t git nuffin out er dis chile. Kee! (Exits R. 
2 E.) - 

Bangs. (Writing.) “Our colored brother is not worth 
fighting for. He doesn’t know his own mind, for he hasn’t 
any to know.” 


Enter Molly, quietly, C. D. 

Molly. (Pausing C.) There’s my Bangs! (Comes down.) 
George! (He continues writing.) George Washington! (Same 
business.) George Washington Bangs! (Slaps him on the 
back.) 

Bangs. 
opened! 

Molly. 

Bangs. 

Molly. 

Bangs. 

Molly. 

Bangs. 

Molly. 


Bing! (Still writing.) The bombardment has 

(Slaps him again.) Are you deafl 
(Writing.) Bang! Increased bombarding! 
(Gives his head a push.) Mr. Bangs! 

Utterly routed! (Looks up.) That you, Molly? 
Yes, it’s I, Molly. Were you in a trance? 

Yep—entranced with this article. 

What on earth are you doing? 



DOWN IN DIXIE. 


17 


Bangs. {Rising.) I’m special war correspondent of the 
Herald. Getting up a magnificent report of the first engage¬ 
ment. 

Molly. {Seated on so/a.) Engagement? Who’s going 

to be married ? 

Bangs. Suffering Caesar, Molly! I’m talking about war 
—dark, deadly, devastating war. It has nothing to do with 
orange wreaths and blushing brides. 

Molly. Is that all you care about now? 

Bangs. All. I’m wedded to my new vocation. I’m 
done with the follies of the world. 

Molly. Are you, indeed? Then you’ve changed very 
suddenly. Last night you were mightily interested in orange 
wreaths when you were begging me to become your blush¬ 
ing bride. 

Bangs. {Soothingly.) Now, Molly— 

Molly. {Crosses.) Don’t speak to me! 

Bangs. {Aside.) Now she’s mad. I can always tell 
if she’s mad when she stands still and taps her toe in that 
manner. 

Molly. Well, why don’t you go? 

Bangs. See here, Molly—hang it all—I didn’t mean a 
single blessed thing that I said. If you don’t want me to 
be a war correspondent I’ll give it up. 

Molly. You will? And you don’t want go and get killed 
for glory? 

Bangs. Never a kill. 

Molly. Honest? 

Bangs. Sure. 

Molly. Then I’ll forgive you. {Runs and embraces him.) 

Enter Dusenberry, R. 2 E. 

Dus. A —ahem! 

Mol. Oh! {Rims off L. U. E.) 

Bangs. {Down L.) Botheration! 

2 


i8 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


Dus. What’s all this, anyhow? 

Bangs. Why—er—you see— 

Dus. Yes, I saw. Well? 

Bangs. Well—Molly and I were— 

Dus. ( Loudly.) Well? 

Bangs. ( Boldly .) Confound it, sir, I was hugging her. 
Have you any objections? If so, name ’em, and I’ll wire 
’em to the Herald. 

Dus. Young man, do you represent the Heraldl 

Bangs. Yes, sir, I do, from the ground up—all wool and 
a yard wide. 

Dus. ( Shakes hands.) I’m glad to know you, Mr.— 

Bangs. Bangs, sir—George Washington Father-of-his- 
country Bangs. 

Dus. You’ve arrived, sir, at a fortunate time. Do you 
write shorthand ? 

Bangs. I do. 

Dus. Very well. I’ve got a speeeh which my wife wants 
me to deliver in Congress; but I’ll see Congress sunk first. 
Now you take down the speech, have it printed in your paper 
and send the bill to me. 

Bangs. (Note booh ready.) Let er flicker. 

Dus. Don’t look at me—you’d put me out. 

Bangs. (Goes up, sits in chair at rear, with back to audience.) 
Now fire ahead. 

Dus. (Strikes attitude.) “Mr. Speaker: When in the 
course of human events”—got that? 

Bangs. Go on. 

Dus. “When in the course of human events—” 

Enter Mrs. Dusenberry with mss., quickly, R. 2 E. 

Mrs. D. Wait a moment. I want to hear this. You’d 
never get through it alone. 

Dus. Thank you, my dear, but I can make a fool of my¬ 
self without any help. 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


1 9 

Mrs. D. No doubt of that. All the same, I’m going to 
prompt you. Now begin. 

Dus. (Drawing a long breath.) “Mr. Speaker—’’ 

Mrs. D. Wait a moment. You don’t begin right. Toe 
the mark and make your bow. 

Dus. (Wearily.) Toe the mark? I’ve been toeing the 
mark ever since I was married! 

Mrs. D. Go on. 

Dus. (Rapidly, ignoring pauses , and gesticulating awk¬ 
wardly. ) “ When in the course of human events it becomes 

necessary for a nation to divide against itself it would be 
very mean to do so if a majority objects. Mr. Lincoln 
seems to be a nice man and I don’t believe he intends to set 
the negroes free without their owners’ consent. Although he 
is not very stylish I belief he intends to do what is right”— 

Bangs (who has risen and is standi?ig on chair , writing rap¬ 
idly , loses his balance at this moment and tumbles to the floor with 
a howl). 

Mrs. D. Mercy on us, what’s that? 

Bangs. (Sitting up.) It’s murder, that’s what! 

Dus. You see the effect of your speech, my dear. Even 
a toughened reporter can’t stand it. 

Mrs. D. Cumberland Jackson Dusenberry! You’re a 
brute! You can learn your speech alone. (Flings doivn mss.) 
I’ll never help you a bit, so there! (Exits R. 2 E.) 

Dus. (Helping Fangs to his feet. ) Young man, I’m very 
much obliged. You tumbled at exactly the right moment. 
Are you hurt ? 

Bangs. I don’t know. I think my liver is slightly dis¬ 
located. 

Dus. Ah, I have an excellent remedy. 

Bangs. What is it? 

Dus. Come this way. (Winks.) 

Bangs. Sh, exactly! (Exeunt L. U. E.) 


20 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


Enter Bradley and Helen, C. D. 

Helen. (. Laughing.) And so you really believe there 

will be war? 

Brad. Seriously, I do. The Yankees are flushed with 
their political victory, and seem determined to carry things 
with a high hand. And you know, Helen, that we will 
never submit to the dictation of a crowd of abolition mud¬ 
sills. 

Helen. What will you do? (Seated on sofa.) 

Brad. Dissolve the Union, and form a confederation of 
our own. 

Helen. And then? 

Brad. Then if the Yankees make war on us, so much the 
worse for them. The States which have already seceded 
will never be coerced into returning to the Union. The first 
attempt in that direction will set things aflame. 

Helen. What savages you men are! 

Brad. No, Helen; but I at least am loyal to my State. 
Would you, a daughter of old Virginia, have me betray her? 

Helen. (After a pause.) No—I would not. 

Brad. (Sits on sofa.) Helen, I have resigned my com¬ 
mission in the Union army, and I came here to-day to talk 
of the future—our future. Should war break out, as it may 
do at any moment, I shall cast my fortunes with the South. 
In that event I may not see you again for a long time. 
Helen, your womanly instinct must have told you what my 
feelings are toward you. I have hesitated in speaking, but 
the time for silence is past. Can I hope that my love for 
you is returned, that my future is bright with promise? 

Helen. (Seriously.) I am sorry that you have said this, 
for my answer must be—no. 

Brad. (Pauses, shrugs shoulders.) Then I suppose I may 
congratulate Capt. Wells? 

Helen. If you choose. 




DOWN IN DIXIE. 


2 I 

Brad. (i?ik) And you, of course, will go over to the 
enemy. (Sneeringly.) How pleased your friends and rel¬ 
atives will be! 

Helen. (Rising. ) What do you mean ? 

Brad. I mean that Capt. Wells is a Yankee officer who 
will be among the first to invade your native State. Per¬ 
haps, in the wild rush of battle, his may be the very hand 
to strike down your own father. (Helen goes E. f nervously.) 
Had you thought of that? 

Helen. I’ll not believe it. Captain Wells will not serve 
if this wretched war comes on. 

Brad. Don’t deceive yourself. I can say for this Cap¬ 
tain Wells that— 

Enter Harvey, C. D. 

Har. Beg pardon. If you please, I will speak for 
myself. 

Brad. (With a sneer.) Do! And enlighten the young 
lady. (Down L.) 

Har. (C.) Helen, what is the matter? What has he 
been saying to you? 

Helen. (Goes to him.) Harvey, tell me; if war should 
arise between the North and South, would—would you re¬ 
main in the Northern army? 

Har. (Ar?n around Helen to Bradley. ) Have you been 
frightening this poor child with your idiotic war talk? 

Brad. Answer her question. 

Har. Don’t be frightened by shadows. There is no war, 
my darling. 

Voice (of Newsboy outside). Extra! Extra! The firing 
on Fort Sumter! Here y’are—Extra! 

Helen. What is that? 

Brad. It’s war at last. 

Helen. No, no, no! 


22 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


Enter Bangs, tipsy, C. D. 

Bangs. (IVavi?ig newspaper.) Heard er news? Fo’—ic 
Fo’t Sum’er blown up. Pres’n’ Lincoln calls f’ seven—ic— 
seven hunnerd ’n’ fifty million men t’ put er down. I'll go— 
ic—go an’ (goes L.) an’ take ’nother tumble. (Exits L. U.E.) 

Brad. You see. (Strolls up L.) 

Enter Dusenberry, C. 

Helen. (Goes to him. Harvey down R.) Oh, uncle, is 
it true ? 

Dus. Yes, my child. The threatened war has come. 

(Goes up C.) 

Har. Helen! (About to approach.) 

Helen. -(Raises hands.) Stop! (Quietly.) What is your 
answer, Harvey ? 

Har. My answer ? (Pauses, places left hand on heart , 
raises right hand ,, faci?ig to front at close of speech.) My answer 
is—my duty to God and the old flag! 

Helen. Then go where duty calls you, but remember, we 
part forever. 

Har. Don’t say that, Helen. 

Helen. I say it and I mean it. You have your duty, but 
so have I. And mine is with my father, my friends, down 
in old Virginia, that land that gave me birth. Your way 
lies to the north—mine to the south. 

(Helen stands proudly erect C., looking at Harvey, with left 
arm partly extended as if pointing . Harvey down R. , with 
folded arms and bowed head. Dusenberry is standing near C. D ., 
and Bradley is down L. watching Harvey. Solemn music.) 

Slow Curtain. 

(For second picture , Helen is up near C. D., with head on 
Dusenberry’s shoulder, as if weephig. Harvey A looking de¬ 
fiantly at Bradley, who stands with head thrown back and an 
i?isolent half-smile .) 


Quick Curtain. 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


23 


ACT II. 

Scene. — Lawn in fifth grooves. Wail or fence in fourth 

grooves, with gate C. All wings and sinks trees with cut 

foliage. Grass cloth down. Rustic chair R. Rustic bench 

L ., front. Summer landscape on flat , with sunlight effects. 

Enter Mosley, R. U. E., followed by Susannah. 

Mos. Don’ talk ter me, chile—you jes’ waste yo’ bref, 
I done tole yo’. 

Sus. I ’clare to goodness, Unc’ Mosley, you’s gettin’ 
wusser ’n wusser eb’ry day. What’s come ober yo’ nohow? 

Mos. Nuffin wha’sebber, chile. Din I tole yo’ dat Ise 
jes a bustin wiv news? 

Sus. Dat so? Whar’bouts? 

Mos. Ise got er paper heah ( takes paper from pocket) 
which am jes done chuck up wiv news ob all de doin’s. 

Sus. Git erway, ign’ance. Yo’ can’t read. 

Mos. ’Deed I kin, chile. {Holds up paper.) Look at all 
dem ar big brack letters. Don’ dem mean ’at suffin’s hap¬ 
pen ? Co’se dey do. Look at all dem chickens a-crowin’ 
wiv dere mouf wide open like er nigger watchin’ ’possum 
cook. Don’ dat mean es dar’s been foughtin’ ’n somebody’s 
got licked? Co’se it do. Den yo’ say I can’t read! Shoo! 
Go ’ way! ( Crosses.) 

Sus. Lor a-mighty, Unc’ Mosley! Din’ reckon yo’ had 
such learnin’. Wha’ de paper say erbout de latest style ob 
wearin’ de har? 

Mos. {With great contempt.) Look a’ dat fool nigger! 
Tell yo’ ’bout foughtin’ an’ shootin’ an’ millions an’ billions 
o’ folkses gettin’ killed dead ’s dey could live, an’ yo’ wants 
ter know ’bout how de har’s worn! 

Sus. Needn’t git mad. Reckon we want ter know 
sufhn’ ’bout how folkses dress don’t we? ’Taint my fault 


24 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


cos you’s a hunnerd years ole an’ ain’t got no style. Us 
ladies try ter keep cibilized, we do, yo’ ole 'rang ertang! 
( Crosses .) 

Mos. Look heah, chile, ef yo’ was a lil chile stid ob a 
big fool I’d gib yo’ er lickin'. 

Sus. An’ ef yo’’ wasn’t older 'n old Kafoosalem I’d jes 
shake de eberlastin’ daylights out o’ yo’ ole brack hide, dal 
I would. (Backs him across stage to L ., shaking fist under his 
nose.) 

Mos. {Frightened.) Keep erway, yo’ she debble. Keep 
erway! Hi dar, quit yo’ foolin’. 

Enter Mrs. Dusenberry, F. U. E. 

Mrs. D. Here you two! What does all this mean? 

Mos. (To Susannah.) Dar! Now see what yo’ done. 
We cotch de debble now. 

Mrs. D. What are you mumbling about? 

Mos. Me, missus? Nuffin 't all. (To Susannah, who 
has placed her hand o?i his arm.) Luff go dar! (To Mrs. D.) 
’Deed I wasn’t. 

Mrs. D. You’re an old rascal. 

Mos. Yas, missus—spect I is. 

Mrs. D. And deserve a good whipping. 

Mos. Eh? (Aside.) Oh lordy! 

Sus. (Laughing, aside.) He, he, he! He cotch it! 

Mrs. D. (Sits R.) I think I’ll have you both punished. 

Mos. and Sus. (Back to back.) Oh! 

Sus. Please let me off dis time, missus. Ise too young. 

Mos. So’s I, missus—I mean Ise too ole. One lickin’ 
ud kill me dead, sho’s yo* live. 

Mrs. D. Very well. Go to work, then. 

Mos. T’ank yo’, missus. (Goes L. with Susannah.) 
Yo’ po’ brack nigger! Jes see how I got yo’ outen dat ar 
scrape! ( They exit L . 2 E.) 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


25 


Enter Helen and Molly, R. U. E. 

Helen. Good morning, aunt. 

Mrs. D. Good morning. Where have you girls been? 

Helen. Out riding. 

Mrs. D. What? (The girls sit L.) With those dreadful, 
terrible Yankees all around? 

Molly. We aren’t afraid. Are we, Helen? 

Helen. Not a bit. 

Mrs. D. But you might be captured. 

Helen. I’m not sure that I would care. 

Molly. Neither would I. 

Mrs. D. What! 

Helen. We’d be sure of something to eat then. Oh, 
just to think of real coffee, and real cream, and plenty of 
salt, and—and— 

Molly. Icecream! 

Helen. Yes, and a whole lot of brand new calico for a 
dress, and some caramels—and some real wheat bread—and— 

Molly. And gum drops! 

Helen. And a New York bonnet! 

Molly. (Clasping hands and raising eyes.') Oh, wouldn’t 
it be too heavenly! 

Mrs. D. Girls, I’m shocked! Where is your patriotism? 

Molly. I never had much. 

Helen. And mine got lost in foragingfor something to eat. 

Mrs. D. Helen, have you no faith? 

Helen. Not much, aunty, since the Yankees put Grant 
in command. 

Mrs. D. Yes, things were different when Halleck had 
charge. If they had only given Mr. Stanton full control, 
how nice it would have been—for us. 

Helen. Wouldn’t it! There would have been no fight¬ 
ing in that case, for Mr. Stanton would never let a soldier 
leave Washington. 


26 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


Molly. And they do say, even now, that every time 
General Lee sneezes, old Goggles has a fit. 

Mrs. D. Old Goggles! You shouldn’t speak in that 
way, Molly. I thought that Mr. Stanton’s spectacles were 
very becoming. 

Molly. Well, I didn’t. I saw him once in Washington, 
and I’ve hated him ever since. He made me think of a 
great, big, cold, clammy fish. I wish I had him at the end 
of a line now, so that I could (. strikes attitude ) jerk him to 
kingdom come! 

Enter Bangs hurriedly , L. U. E. 

Bangs. {Sketching. ) Pardon me, please, but just hold 
that attitude for a moment. Splendid pose! 

Mrs. D. (Rising.) Who are you, sir? 

Bangs. George Washington, father-of-his-country Bangs. 

Molly. Oh, it’s my Bangs! ( Embraces him.) 

Bangs. Wow! (Ruts thumb in mouth.) 

Molly. What’s the matter? 

Bangs. Jammed that pencil plumb through my—why, 
blest if it aint Molly! (Embraces her, thumb still in mouth. 

Molly. (Releases herself.) Here’s aunty and Cousin 
Helen. 

Bangs. (Shakes hands with them.) Delighted to see you, 
Miss Trevoir; and you, too, madam. I declare you are 
looking younger than ever. How are you all, anyhow, and 
where’s the Congressmen ? 

Mrs. D. We’re all as well as poverty permits. And Mr. 
Dusenberry—where is he, girls? 

Helen. (Laughing) He’s in the service. 

Mrs. D. What service? 

Helen. The Home Guard Cavalry. He went out this 
morning to drill. 

Mrs. D. Goodness! He must be crazy! Why, he can’t 
ride. He will surely break his neck. If you’ll excuse me, 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


27 


Mr. Bangs, I will send somebody to look after him. (Exits 
R. U. E.) 

Helen. (Laughing.') Poor aunt. She has something 
new to worry over. (Goes up R.) 

Molly. You are not going, Helen? 

Helen. (Pausmg up R.) Oh, dear, no; I wouldn’t 
think of it. (Exits R. U. E.) 

Bangs. There’s a sensible girl. 

Molly. And good as she is sensible. In spite of all our 
troubles she keeps up her spirits and never complains. 
(Seated ', L.) 

Bangs. (Beside her .) And she remains single ? 

Molly. Of course. There’s nobody left to marry down 
here. Our men are all killed or starving in the trenches. 

Bangs. Is Bradley among them? 

Molly. No, indeed. He takes precious good care of 
himself—for a soldier. 

Bangs. I supposed Helen would marry him when she 
threw Wells over. 

Molly. You supposed wrong, then. I believe she hates 
the very sight of him. 

Bangs. And Wells? 

Molly. She never speaks of him. 

Bangs. Ergo —she still loves him. 

Molly. How wise you are. Now / was always talking 
about you. 

Bangs. I know it. I’ve felt my ears tingle mapy a 
time. But the exception in your case only proves the rule. 

Molly. Tell me some news. What’s become of Mr. 
Sniffins—that funny man, you know, who talked so through 
his nose. 

Bangs. Who, Hezekiah? Oh, he’s rusticating. 

Molly. Rusticating? Whereabouts? 

Bangs. In Canada, I dare say, unless he’s down here 


28 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


among the rebs. You see, he got a big bounty to enlist, 
and then he deserted. As soon as the war is over he’ll be 
around after a pension. 

Molly. They ought to hang him. 

Bangs. Of course—but they wont. 

Molly. What will they do? 

Bangs. Give him a lot of back pay and a government 
job, while the needy veterans go a-begging. 

Molly. That would be outrageous. But tell me about 
yourself. Plow did you find us? 

Bangs. Well, this region is a sort of No Man’s Land, 
you know. Neither the Yanks nor Johnnies come here very 
often. We’ve a scouting party in the neighborhood, and 
Colonel Wells let me come along. 

Molly. Harvey Wells? 

Bangs. Harvey Wells. 

Molly. Then he may come here. I must go and tell 
Helen. {About to rise.') 

Bangs. (Restraining her.) Not for the world. It is best 
that she should know nothing about it. 

Molly. And why? 

Bangs. Because it would trouble her. There is but 
little chance of their meeting except by accident, and it is 
best to say nothing about him. 

Molly. Then he has not forgotten her. 

Bangs. No, and he never will. But he is proud as 
Lucifer, and if he thought Helen was here you couldn’t 
induce him to come. 

Molly. Ah—then he is coming? 

Bangs. He may happen along—by accident. 

Molly. You’re an angel. I’ve half a mind to— 

Bangs. Two? Thank you. (Kisses her.) 

Dus. (Off L. U. E.) Confound it; I say no! 

Molly. Oh, there’s uncle. I must go. 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


2 9 


Bangs. You wont be long? 

Molly. No; I want to see if I can find a whole pair of 
shoes and a dress that isn’t patched very much. That’s all. 

Bangs. ( Looks L.) Hello! What’s this? 

Enter Dusenberry, Z. U. E. 

Dus. [C. } in a rage.) I wish every horse in Virginia 
wasinTophet! {Strikes attitude.) , 

Bangs. ( Sketching .) Hold that pose just a minute, wont 
you? [Aside.) Ajax defying the lightning! 

Dus. Do you take me for a Greek statue, young man ? 

Bangs. What seems to be the matter? 

Dus. Seems? Seems? There’s no seem to it. Is my 
coat slit up the back ? 

Bangs. [Sketching.) Yep. Way up. 

Dus. Hat smashed, eye blacked, nose bunged, clothes 
muddy ? 

Bangs. You’ve hit it. 

Dus. No, I haven’t; but I got hit. 

Bangs. How? 

Dus. Why, I was riding on horseback, and all of a sud¬ 
den the ground tumbled right up against me. 

Bangs. I know. I’ve had the same experience when 
I’ve been out among the boys. 

Dus. Why, bless me if it isn't George Washington— 

Bangs. Father-of-his—Say! Haven’t you got some of 
the same remedy you gave me the time I took a tumble at 
your house ? 

Dus. Haven’t I? Well, you come right along and see. 
[Exeunt arm in arm , R. 2 E.) 

Enter Harvey and Corporal Houligan, L. U. E. 

Har. You say that Mr. Bangs sent for me ? 

Corp. Yis, sor. 


3° 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


Har. What did he say? 

Corp. Well, sor, he said this. Ye see, sor, whin we 
kim to a halt, I got down off me horse to stretch mesilf a 
bit an’ fill me pipe wid some o’ that tobaccy we confiscated 
over thare beyant—an’ mighty foine tobaccy it is sor—an’ 
I felt in me pocket an’ got a match, an’ divil a wan had I 
at all, at all, an’ I said— 

Har. (Impatiently.) Confound your matches! 

Corp. Yis, sor; that’s what I said. An’ thin Mr. Bangs 
kim along an’ tould me to tell ye what he tould me to tell 
ye to come here av ye would. 

Har. Well, I’ll look him up. Go back to the road and 
keep your eyes open. 

Corp. Yis, sor. ( Salutes a?id goes up L. Pauses.) Av 
I see a reb shall I plug him ? 

Har. No, indeed. If you see anything suspicious re¬ 
port at once. 

Corp. All roight, Colonel. I’d rather report a mon, 
bedad, than shoot him any toime. (Exits L. U E.) 

Har. I wonder what new scrape Bangs has been getting 
into? That fellow is always in hot water. ( Looks off R.) 
Eh! Um-m! There he is, with his arm around a young 
woman. ( Down a little L.) He’s in danger—great danger. 
Well ( laughi?ig) its my duty, my sacred, solemn duty to 
rescue him at all hazards. So here goes! ( Starts rapidly up 
tozoard R. U. E ., meeting Helen near gate C. ) Helen! 

Helen. ( Coldly .) Miss Trevoir, if you please. (Harry 
bows; goes down L. Pause.) What do you w T ant here? 
There is nothing left to steal. 

Har. You must be mad to speak in that way. Am I a thief? 

Helen. No, but your army is. That army has respected 
neither the rich nor poor, the young nor old. It has pillaged 
the homes of the wealthy, and has taken the last crust from 
the hungering poor. You call yourselves men; men? No! 
You are nothing but cruel, wanton savages. (Crosses.) 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


31 


Har. I regret that you should hold me responsible for 
all this. There was a time when you did not think me cruel 
nor savage. 

Helen. That was before this terrible war had blighted 
our homes, hardened our hearts and made us all so wretched. 
( Seated with bowed head .) 

Har. ( Beside her.) We have no right to accuse our¬ 
selves, Helen. You and I are only floating straws in the 
great tide of events. Like the thousands who have yielded 
up both life and fortune in this mighty struggle, we have 
done our duty as we saw it, and we have no right to self 
reproach. And the man from the North or the man from 
the South who dies for his faith is above all censure. In 
the days to come he will be a wretched coward that defames 
the veterans of either side, for they are heroes alike, whether 
they wore the blue or wore the gray. 

Helen. (Rises and offers ha?id.) I was unjust to you, 
Harvey. Wont you forgive me? 

Har. Freely and gladly. Ah, Helen, if the past three 
years could be as a night—if we could be back again to the 
old house in Washington where you promised to become my— 

Helen. (Passionately.) Don’t, Harvey! (Turns away 
sadly.) The past must be forgotten. 

Har. We never can forget. Whatever the future may 
have in store, the past is wholly our own. Must we remain 
forever the victims of our own pride? We have done our 
duty as we saw it, and more than that no one can ask. 

Helen. What do you mean ? 

Har. I mean that this war must soon be over, for our 
gallant foes are nearly worn out. When peace dawns at last 
shall we not share it? (Takes her hand.) I have treasured 
your love in my heart all these weary days. It has been a 
beacon light to me through storms and darkness. It has 
nerved me in the shock of battle, and cheered me on the 



32 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


lonely march. Tell me, Helen, has it found no echo in 
your own heart? 

Helen. I cannot answer now. Perhaps when the war is 
over I—I may tell you then. 

Har. Thank you, darling. (About to embrace her.') 

Helen. (Stopping him playfully.) No, no. Don’t forget 
that we’re still enemies. Come in and see aunt—if you’re 
brave enough. 

Har. (Going R. with her.) I’d face the Medusa herself 
after this. (Exeunt R. 2 E.) 

Enter Dusenberry, R. U. E ., carries bottle, and is slightly tipsy. 

Dus. (C.) That’s good medicine. It’s—ic—powerful 
good medicine. Feel lots better already. Mr. Speaker! 
When in er course human events, man—ic—man falls off 
horse ’n splits his back—ic—mean breaks his coat—w T hen 
man falls off horse ’n blacks his nose—ic—mean bungs his 
black— (loudly) Mr. Speaker! (lower) Mizzer Speaker—Ic— 
’s I said when horse falls off man— (stumbles i?ito chair, R.) 
— ic—Bangs went banging after Molly ’n I had take his 
medicine, too. Reckon, too, it’s over—ic—overdose. Like 
to be liberal. Mr. Speaker, rise t’ point ’f order. Rise t’ 
point— (half rising and falling back) rise t’ point—all right 
—then I wont. Know what I’ll do. Go ’n fall off horse 
again. (Rises carefully, clinging to chair. Steadies himself, 
back to audience, then walks off , R. U. E ., in “ bee line,” stepping 
very high.) 

Enter Sniffins, followed by Mosley, L. j E. 

Mos. Scuse me, sah, ef yo’ please, but I don’t know 
yo’, sah. 

Snif. You don’t say! Wall, that’s kinder odd. 

Mos. Praps it am, sah, yes, sah. But ef yo’ll Tow me 
ter dislocate er question, may I ax who de debble yo’ am, 
sah ? 



DOWN IN DIXIE. 


33 


Snif. Guess you can. I’m Hezekiah Obadiah Sniffins, 
busted up ex-army contractor in s’arch of a job and some¬ 
thing ter eat, b’ gosh. 

Mos. Lo’d sakes! Am yo’ busted? Wouldn’t tink it, 
sah, fo’ a fac’, sah. 

Snif. That’s what I am. Say, aint you got any cold 
victuals a-layin’ around loose? 

Mos. No, sah. Nuffin nebber has er chance o’ gittin’ 
cold heah, sah. We has such pow’ful little dat we eats it 
mighty hot. 

Snif. Then gimme suthin’ hot. I’m hungry enough to 
eat bilein’ soup seasoned with red pepper. 

Mos. Yas. sah. Which side yo’ b’long to, sah, de Norf 
er de Souf ? 

Snif. Wal, now, you’ve kinder got me. I jined the 
Northern army, but business took me to Canady ruther 
sudden, an’ I’d a been there now, but I got into a specula¬ 
tion an’ my health required a change, so I drifted down 
here in a round erbout kind o’ way. Guess I’m ennything 
ennybody else is jest now. 

Mos. (Aside.) Don’t jis like his pussonel ’pearance. 
But den—shoo—he’s nuffin but po’ white trash. Yo’ jes 
wait ’n I’ll go see ef I kin git suffin biled up fo’ yo’, sah. 

Snif. Kerect—an’ say—git er lot of it while you’re a 
gittin. 

Mos. Yes, sah. (Exit R. 2 E.) 

Snif. Guess I worked that kinder slick. (Goes up L. 
and signals. 

Enter Billings, L. U. E. 

Bill. (Cautiously .) Hes you uns treed yer coon ? 

Snif. Guess I hev. See, (points R.) there he sets in the 
house jest as if he owned the whole caboodle. 

Bill. I erlow he don’t reckon es he’ll be in Libby Prison 
afore sunup. 

3 


34 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


Snif. Serve him, right, durn him! He spiled a big con¬ 
tract for me once, ’n I’m glad of a chance to git even. 

Bill. Taint my, funeral, only he un is a cussed Yank, 
and we uns is allers peart of a chance ter nail ’em. I’ll go 
’n tell the Major. 

Snif. No need o’ that. ( Looks L.) Here comes the boss 
himself. 

Enter Bradley, L. U. E. 

Brad. What are you doing here? 

Bill. ( Saluting .) Keepin’ an eye on the commander of 
the Yanks. 

Brad. Where is he? 

Bill. ( Pouits R.) In yen, beyend. 

Brad. Very well. We have surrounded and captured all 
his men without firing a shot. 

Snif. {Waving hat.) Hooray! 

Brad. Hold your tongue! Go back and send me a squad 
of three or four men. I’ll look after this fellow. 

Bill. Yes, sir. {Salutes and exits L. U. E.) 

Snif. But I say, Major, I’m waitin’ for suthin to eat. 

Brad. You’ll get nothing here. 

Snif. But, durn the luck, I— 

Brad. Be off with you. 

Snif. {Goes up L.) I know what I’ll do. I’ll’go and 
rob a hen roost, b’ gosh! {Exits L. U. E.) 

Brad. I wonder whom the fair Helen is entertaining? 
Whoever he" is, Mr. Yankee will find himself in different 
quarters to-morrow. {Looks E.) What? Can it be? As I 
live, it is {down C.) Harvey Wells! {Joyfully.) At last! 
At last I’ll bring my proud lady to terms. {Goes up and 
looks R.) She is coming. She must have seen me. 

Enter Helen, R. 2 E. 

Helen. Major Bradley! 

Brad. Good morning, Helen. What is the matter? 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


35 


Helen. Nothing, only—only your arrival is—is— 

Brad. Very fortunate ? Yes, indeed. 

Helen. I—I don’t understand. 

Brad. No? Then I will explain. There was quite a 
force of plundering Yankees in this vicinity, and I was 
lucky enough to hear of it. Alarmed for your safety I hur¬ 
ried on with a detachment of my own troops, and arrived 
just in time. We quietly surrounded the Yankees, and with 
one exception they are all my prisoners. 

Helen. (A/armed.) With one exception ? 

Brad. {Coolly.') With one exception—the mudsill whom 
you discarded three years ago, and who will be in Libby 
Prison to-morrow. ( Crosses to L.) 

Helen. No, no! He is my guest, remember, and it 
would be treachery, base, ignoble treachery, to capture him 
now. 

Brad. I beg leave to differ. He is an enemy and I 
shall take him. 

Helen. No, no! You shall not! 

Brad. Are you so interested? Very well, he shall escape 
—on one condition. 

Helen. What is it? 

Brad. Promise to marry me {arm around her waist) and 
I’ll withdraw my men. 

Helen. I—I— 

Enter Harvey, quickly , R. 2 E. 

Kar. Helen! 

Brad. Well, sir, what is it? {ToL. C.) 

Har. {R. C.) Answer when you’re spoken to. 

Brad. {Strikes Harvey across face with glove.) You 
answer that. 

Har. {Hits Bradley with fist.) You cur! There’s my 
answer! {Both draw swords.) 


36 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 



Helen. (Down L., in fright .) What are you doing? 

Two or three shots are fired off R., as Hooligan runs on } R. 

U. F. y followed by Sniffins. 

Snif. Come on, boys! Here he is. 

Corp. (Strikes Sniffins in sto?nach with butt of musket , 
knocking hwi down.) And thare ye air! (To Harvey.) 
Colonel, eschape av ye can; we’re surrounded! 

Har. Surrounded! (Looks at Helen, who is down L ., 
with her back to him.) There’s been treachery here! 

Brad. Treachery? 

Har. (C.) How did you know of my presence? 

Brad. (C ., apart to Harvey.) Do you think that she— 
my affianced wife—would harbor an enemy? 

Har. (Throws sivordR ., presses left hand to temple.) Be¬ 
trayed! Betrayed by her! 

Helen. (Going to C.) Harvey! (he turns away) I—I— 
(Falls fainting , C.) 

Har. (As Bradley stoops as if to raise her , snatches his 
sword.) Stop there, you hound! (Intensely.) Don’t dare 
touch her! 

Slow Curtain. 


(For second picture , Harvey stands with folded arms by gate 
looking back at Helen, who is seated R ., with Mrs. D. stand¬ 
ing behind her and Molly kneeling beside her. Helen’s head 
is bowed and her hands are clasped. Bradley is up R. C., 
looki?ig at Harvey. Billings stands outside of gate L., with 
musket at a “shoulder.” Sniffins is inside of fence L ., on his 
knees , and Corporal Hooligan is in front of him , be?iding 
down and holding fist under his nose .) 

Quick Curtain. 




*r- / 




DOWN IN DIXIE. 


37 


ACT III. 

Scene.— A very rough roo 7 n in fourth grooves , with similar back¬ 
ing in fifth grooves. Doors L. C., in flat, and R. i E. Rough 

table and two stools R. Stool L. 

Discover Harvey lying on floor , covered by ragged blanket , up 
C . Corporal Hooligan seated on stool L. 

Corp. ( Sings. ) 

“ Oh, Brian O’Linn had no pants for to wear, 

So he got him a shapeskin an’ made him a pair, 

Wid the wooly side out an’ the ’tother side in, 

Shure they’re cool an’ convanient, says Brian O’Linn.” 

I wish I was Brian O’Linn! Faith, av I iver git out o’ 
this alive widout starvin’ to death I’ll be lucky. What a 
foine job I moight git begob a-lettin’ mesilf out as a scare 
crow! Shure the Confiderate governmint has larned the 
sacret av kaping min alive wid nothin’ to ate but air, an’ 
very little o’ that. Av a mon goes to the windy up stairs for 
a bit o’ fresh air, ping! comes a bullet from some rebel 
guard—an’—good-bye. Wan o’ them lifted some hair out 
o’ me hid the other day, an’ the rist av it has been standin’ 
on ind iver since. (Rises, goes up and looks at Harvey.) 
The Colonel is aslape. (Shakes head.') Poor fellow. (Comes 
dow 7 i .) It was bad enough to git nabbed, but it was a dom 
soight worser to have his own swateheart decoy him into it. 
I’ll niver agin trust a woman out o’ me soight unliss she’s a 
mon! (Places hand on sto 77 iach.) Oh, lard, how hungry I om. 
I belave oi cud ate a cannon ball av it was biled soft! 

Har. Corporal! 

Corp. Yis, sor. (Helps him to rise.) How air ye now, 
Colonel ? Aisy! (Helps him to seat L. at table) Thare ye air. 

Har. Thank you. I’ve had a good sleep and I feel 
much better. 


38 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


Corp. That’s roight. Yer lookin’ first rate. (Aside.) 
What a liar I om. But I say, Colonel dear, don’t let ’em 
know you’re gettin’ well so fast, or they’ll chuck ye back 
to “hell’s half acre.” Take pattern by me now. Whin 
the doctor kirns around ye know I always have a brand new 
fatal disorder av some deadly disease, an’ so he let’s me 
stay here an’ take care o’ ye. 

Har. Yes, and to your unselfish devotion I owe my life. 
You have denied yourself both food and sleep—you have 
worn yourself out in my behalf, (clasps his hand) my brave, 
honest friend. 

Corp. Hould on, Colonel—hould on. Begorry, I’m 
gittin’ black in the face wid blushin’. 

Har. Has the guard been around lately? 

Corp. Yis, sor; he was here an hour agone, wid some 
cheerful news. 

Har. Indeed ? 

Corp. Yis, sor. We’re to have no supper to-night— 
glory be praised! 

Har. Do you call that good news? 

Corp. Indade I do. Don’t it give me stomach a chance 
to rist from the tough stuff we git to ate? 

Har. Stuff? Yes, that’s the word. I tell you, Corporal, 
if ever I live to see home again, I believe I’ll eat for a 
month. 

Corp. A month is it? Begorry, I’ll ate till I die. But, 

’ sh! ( Warningly.) 

Har. What is it? 

Corp. Don’t say a word. I’ve got a surprise for ye. 
(Goes up, looks off D. F ., then comes down.) Here (takes 
piece of sausage and bread f rom his pocket) I confiscated some 
supper for ye. 

Har, What! (Grabs the food and is about to eat, but 
pauses.) What a savage I am. Here, Corporal, you must 
share with me. 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


39 


Corp. Share is it? An’ me so full I can’t breathe? 

Har. You’re sure you’re not hungry ? 

Corp. Ain’t I stuffed loike a pig before killin’? Goon 
wid ye! 

Har. God bless you! ( Turns to table and eats.) 

Corp. Amin! (Turns, looks 0/Harvey, then tur?is away 
quickly and tightens strap around waist. ) 

Har. (Rating.) Where did you get this, Corporal? 

Corp. I’ll tell ye. Ye know that divil of a Bradley who 
nabbed us last summer? Well he’s in pro-temporary com¬ 
mand here. 

Har. (Clutching table.') Is he ? 

Corp. Yis, he is—worse luck. The blackguard’s room 
is aff the hall below. Well, I snaked down there while they 
was changing guards a bit ago, an’ a nagur b’y was bringin’ 
the divil his supper. As he passed by me I dunno how it 
was, but that sausage an’ bread jumped roight intil me 
pocket, plump out o’ the basket! 

Har. Corporal! 

Corp. Yis, sor. 

Har. You’ve been lying to me. 

Corp. (Aside.) He’s found me out! Yis, sor. 

Har. You pretended that you, too, had something to 
eat. 

Corp. But, Colonel— 

Har. Silence! 

Corp. Yis, sor. (Military salute.) 

Har. Was it fair to trick me into eating your food? 

Corp. But it wasn’t my food. I stole it, I tell you. 
(With feeling.) Ah, Colonel dear, didn’t ye fight side by 
side wid us through thick an’ thin ? An’ wouldn’t any av the 
byes lay down their lives for ye, to say nothin’ o’ givin ye a 
chunk o’ bread an’ sausage? 

Har. (Rises; they clasp hands.) Not for me, Corporal, 


40 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


but for the flag we followed. {Raises eyes.) Old Glory! 
Shall I ever, ever see you again? 

Corp. That ye will, Colonel, that ye will. {Impres¬ 
sively.) For remember, {sings in an unaerto?ie) 

The star-spangled banner in triumph still waves, 

O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave. 

Voice. ( Outside , at rear.) Roll call, roll call, roll call! 

Corp. {Same drawling tone.) All right, all right, all 
right! Somebody’s callin’ fer roll call, just as if we didn’t 
know enough to be called widout callin' Excuse me, now, 
Colonel ye know, bekase I want to see that ye are kipt on 
sick list. {Goes up.) I foind the only way to kape at all 
well here, is to kape sick. {Exit D. FI) 

Har. The noble-hearted fellow. I owe my life to him. 
{Resumes seat R.) So Bradley is in command here. Heaven 
help the poor boys if he remains in charge. And she —no 
doubt she, too, is in the city. Perhaps even now she is 
rejoicing over the treachery that brought me here. Who 
would have dreamed that a face so fair could mask a soul 
so black ? When I think of the suffering she has caused 
by her infamous betrayal, I can almost find it in my heart— 
to curse her. (Pause.) No, not that, not that! For in spite 
of all—oh, shame to my manhood—in spite of all I love 
her still! Her image is enshrined in my heart, (passionately) 
and I cannot, I cannot forget her! (Head on arms on table. 
Pause , music , then.) 

Enter Billings, D. F., followed by Helen. 

Bill. That’s him, over yen. You uns can’t stay ’n talk 
with we uns very long. Rules is powerful strict. 

Helen. Is that Colonel Wells? 

Bill. Sartin. 

Helen. In those rags? 

Bill. Sartin. Yanks aint rigged out here like ginerals 
on parade. (Exits D. F.) 



DOWN IN DIXIE. 


41 


Helen. (Comes slowly down C. Pauses , then speaks.) 
Harvey! 

Har. (Raises his head, recognizes her with a start.) You! 

Helen. (Holding out hands.) I have found you at last. 

Har. (Pises.) Stop. You have come to inspect your 
work, I suppose. Well, look at me. You see what a few 
months in a rebel prison can do. If you want to know how 
other victims of your treachery have fared, go out to Belle 
Isle, and you’ll find them there in unnamed graves—at 
peace with all the world. (Crosses to L C.) 

Helen. Harvey, listen to me. I never meant to harm 
you—I was innocent of even a thought of wrong. 

Har. Helen, can you expect me to believe that? Heaven 
knows, I wish that I might—but it is impossible. I saw 
your hand in his, I saw his arm around you— 

Helen. And do you know what he was saying? Well, 
I’ll tell you. He was offering to let you escape if I would 
promise to marry him. 

Har. Yes—and he told me that you were his affianced 
wife, and therefore that you had betrayed us. 

Helen. He told you a cowardly lie, for I never prom¬ 
ised to marry him. 

Har. Helen! (Embraces her.) Forgive me, darling, for 
the cruel thoughts I’ve had against you all these weary days. 

Helen. There is nothing to forgive. But come—time is 
precious. You must escape. 

Har. Escape? 

Helen. Yes. I have a pass for myself and servant. 
Uncle Mosley came with me. You shall go in his place. 

Har. I’m afraid I’m not tanned enough. 

Helen. I have brought some burnt cork, and you can 
blacken your face and hands. Here it is. ( Gives him small 
box.) Make haste. The guards have been changed, it is 
getting late, and you will not be noticed. 


42 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


Har. But poor old Mosley— 

Helen. Never mind Uncle Mosley. He’s nobody’s 
fool. Hurry, hurry for my sake. 

Har. It’s a desperate chance, but I’ll try it. 

Enter Bradley, quietly, D, F. 

Helen. There is no risk. Once outside this vile prison 
and you are safe. 

Brad. But he’s not out yet. 

Helen. {Down R.) You here! 

Brad. Just in time to spoil your pretty plot. So, my 
dear, you were aiding one of my prisoners to escape. I sup¬ 
pose you know the penalty ? 

Helen. {Frightened ) The—penalty ? 

Brad. Under military law—the only law that we obey— 
it is death. 

Helen. Death! 

Har. (Z.) It is cowardly to frighten this poor child. 
Aid me to escape? It’s absurd! 

Brad. Not at all. The scheme was very clever, and 
would have succeeded beyond doubt. However, let that 
pass. I can’t say that I blame you for wishing to get away, 
and I’m almost certain that you’re going. 

Har. What do you mean ? 

Brad. You are in love, I believe, with this young 
woman ? 

Helen. Yes, he is; and this young woman is proud of 
that love. 

Brad. {Sneeringly ) Is that so! He’s a Yankee, re¬ 
member, and you will soon see what a Yankee’s love is 
worth. 

Har. By heaven—( takes a step toward him.) 

Brad. {Pulls a revolver froin belt.) Better remain where 
you are. This revolver sometimes goes off very suddenly. 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


43 


Har. Pardon me. You were about to propose some¬ 
thing, were you not? 

Brad. Something greatly to your advantage. In brief, 
if you will renounce your pretensions to this young lady’s 
hand; if she, on her part, will agree to marry me at once, 
I’ll set you at liberty. 

Har. And if not? 

Brad. If not, I’ll have you shot within ten minutes! 
(Helen sinks into seat R.) 

Har. On what charge? 

Brad. Charge? Anything I please. If I order you shot 
my men wont ask the reason. ( With a sneer.') What does 
a Yankee amount to, anyhow? 

Har. But if I renounce her what proof have I that you 
will let me go? 

Helen. Renounce me? Oh, Harvey! 

Brad. [To Helen.) There’s your Yankee lover! 

Har. ( Restrains himself with a mighty effort and speaks in 
a cringing tone.) But really I want some proof, you 
know. 

Brad. I have here in my pocket some blank passes 
signed by General Lee, to be used in grave emergencies. 
I will fill you out one of them, supply you with suitable 
clothing, a good horse, and away you go for liberty. 

Har. That’s a very tempting offer. 

Brad. Well, what do you say? 

Helen. ( Springing up.) I say no! ( Pauses , gives Brad¬ 
ley a contemptuous look y then meets and embraces Harvey at L. 
C.) Harvey, I have perfect faith in you. (Turns to Brad¬ 
ley.) If I ever marry anyone it will be this gentleman. 
You may murder us both if you will, but I shall never be 
your wife! 

Brad. Then you have spoken his sentence. 

Helen. No, I have not. I will alarm the guards. There 


44 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


must be some men here who will prevent such a brutal 
murder. 

Brad. (Ititerposing.) Remain where you are. 

Helen. You dare not stop me. I have a pass from Pres¬ 
ident Davis. 

Brad. Indeed? Let me see it. ( Takes pass and quietly 
tears it up. ) So much for your pass. Think again before 
you decide. His fate is in your hands. You can give him 
life and liberty, or death, as you prefer. 

Har. I prefer the former. Helen, you—you better 
marry him. 

Helen. (R.) You advise me thus? 

Har. It looks rather hard, I know, but then I guess it’s 
all for the best. I don’t want to be shot, and besides I 
never did care very much for you, anyhow. 

Helen. Oh, Harvey! (Sinks into chair with head bowed on 
table, R.) 

Brad. ( Triumphantly.} I thought it would come to this. 
So much for a Yankee’s love! 

Helen. (Looks up, proudly.} Spare your sneers. (Rises .) 
As much as I hate you, I despise him more! Do as you 
please, but I shall go to President Davis and report every¬ 
thing. 

Brad. (Brutally.} You will do nothing of the kind, my 
pretty one. On the contrary you will remain right here— 
even though I have to bind and gag you, 

Helen. I dare you to touch me! 

Brad. Really? (Takes strong cord from pocket.} Then 
I’ll do so at once. 

Helen. (Shrinking back.} No, no! Don’t do that! 

Brad. (Savagely.} Whining won’t avail. 

Har. Beg pardon, Major—but can’t I help? (Spoken i?i 
a fawning manner.} 

Brad. Eh? (Looks at him in surprise — then, joyously.} 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 45 

Yes, you may. Go ahead—bind her, bind her! Then how 

she will love you! 

Har. (. Fawningly .) And if I do you’ll give me a pass 
and let me go, wont you ? 

Brad. (With contempt.) Yes, you whining cur, I’ll let 
you go. Why, you’re not worth shooting—nor hanging, 
either. 

Har. Thank you. (Takes rope in left hand and slowly 
approaches Helen, who is down R. front , standing proudly 
erect, and watching him scornf ully. He pauses, clutches at his 
own throat as if suffocating, then approaches her ivith downcast 
eyes. Bradley is watching them at C.) 

Helen. (As he is about to seize her wrist.} Harvey! 
(Shrinking back. ) Harvey! (He grasps her right wrist with 
his right hand. She struggles.) Don’t disgrace me like this! 

Har. (To Bradley.) She is very strong. Wont you 
hold the rope, please? 

Brad. With pleasure. (Harvey has dragged Helen to 
R. C. As Bradley takes rope Harvey releases her, seizes 
Bradley by the throat with both hands, sways him right and 
left and then dashes him heavily to the floor at C.) 

Har. (Exultantly, with foot on Bradley’s chest.) Now, 
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF A YANKEE’S LOVE? (Music, 

“Yankee Doodle.”) 


Quick Curtain. 

For second picture, Bradley remains where he fell, while 
Harvey is standing with arm around Helen, near D. F.) 

Quick Curtain. 


46 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


ACT IV. 

Scene. —Poorly furnished room in fourth grooves. No carpet 

nor rugs. High screen up R. Old sofa down R. Chairs by 

flat R. and L. Rough table and chairs L. Doors R. U. E., 

concealed by screen, C. in flat, and L. i E. 

Discover Susannah sitting on table, with feet on chair. 

Sus. Lor’ a mussy, how everting’s gone ter everlastin’ 
smash roun’ dis yar plantation nohow! Ue yanks dey come 
an’ dey steal suffin. Den de rebs dey come ’n steal what’s 
lef’. An’ now we ain’t got nuffin no mo’! Ki, yi! Reckon 
de only hones’ folkses round heah am de nigs, ’n dar ain’t 
only a few o’ dem lef’ since Marser Linkum made his 
Emacktation Pocaration. 

Enter Mosley, C. D. 

Mos. Look yar, yo’ no count nigger! Dat de way yo’ 
work! 

Sus. Ain’t got nuffin to do. 

Mos. Dat don’ make no diffunce. Yo’ better move 
yo’sef ’n fine suffin ter do, else yo’ git discharged. 

Sus. Wha’ yo’ mean by git discharged? 

Mos. What I mean? I mean dat you’s free now, an’ 
you’s gotter work fo’ a libbin. No mo’ loafin’ eroun wiv 
some ole Marse er Miss ter took car’ ob yo’! Don’ yo’ 
see? 

Sus. Am dat de meanin’ ob bein’ free? 

Mos. Dat’s de meanin’. 

Sus. An’ don’ ole Marse hafter feed us niggers no mo’ ? 

Mos. Nebber no mo’. 

Sus. Ner gib us nuffin ter wear, ner nuffin? 

Mos. Nuffin. Gotter hump yo’sef now ef yo’ has anyfing 
ter eat er wear 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 47 

Sus. (Stamps foot.) Den I wont be free! I wont be 
Emackerlated Poc—poc— (cries) pocuerated—so dar now! 

Mos. Stop yo’ jabber! 

Sus. I wont! 

Mos. Fool nigger! Nigger fool! Don’ yo’ see dat you ’s 
free? Yo’ can’t be buyed nor solded any mo’. Praise de 
Lord! Ise got a wife 'way down in Souf Carliny, an’ when 
de war’s ober Ise gwine ter fine her ef it takes me ter king¬ 
dom come. 

Sus. But dey’ll nebber stop a foughtin ? 

Mos. Yes dey will. Gineral Grant’s pow’ful likely ter 
go a-smashin’ inter Petersburg any day, an’ dat winds 
it up. 

Sus. I wonder how yo’ learn all dat? 

Mos. In Richmond, ’sh! Don’ say nuffin. Miss Helen 
an’ me kim home las’ night an’ brought two Yankee soldiers 
erlong. Dey’s sleepin’ yit, I reckon, an’ yo’ wants ter keep 
yo’ eye peeled an’ sing out ef yo’ sees any rebs. We’s been 
a good ten days gittin heah ’n maybe dey cotch up now. 

Sus. All right. Whar ah de Yanks ? 

Mos. (Points toward R. U. E.) Dey is hid in dar—but 
fo’ yo’ life don’ yo’ tell. 

Sus. (Going L.) Tell? Me tell? I let ’em knock dis 
chile’s head off fust. (Exits L. i E.) 

Enter Sniffins, quickly , C. D. 

Mos. (Surprised.) Eh! Who de debble am dat? 

Snif. Hide me, hide me some way quick! 

Mos. Wha’s de matter? 

Snif. Dum it all, can’t you guess ez I’m an escaped 
Federal prisoner? 

Mos. Ef dat’s so, c’ose I’ll hide yo’. Come erlong. 
(Starts up C.) 

Snif. (Aside.) Now I’ll find out ef they’re here. 





4 8 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


Mos. (Stopping and looking closely at Sniffins.) Reckon 
Ise seen yo’ afore sah. 

Snif. Guess not, uncle. I never was here before. 

Mos. Dat’s a great big lie! 

Snif. You dum black scoundrel! What do you mean? 

Mos. I mean dat you’s de white scoundrel es helped cotch 
Marse Wells las’ summer. An’ Ise proud o’ bein’ brack 
when men lik z you (points) is white! 

Snif. (Draws knife!) I’ll cut yer black heart out! 
(Rushes at Mosley .) 

Mos. (Catches his arm and hurls him to the floor.) My 
heart is whiter den yours, an’ my arm’s a heap sight stronger! 

Enter Bangs quickly , C. D . 

Bangs. (Sketchmg .) Just hold that pose, will you? 
Splendid effect. 

Mos. Why, Marser Bangs, dat yo’ ? 

Bangs. Every time. What’s the row? 

Mos. (Points to Sniffins, who has risen.) Dat ar runny- 
gade war up to some debbletry, an’ I floored him. 

Bangs. All right. Kick him out of the house. 

Mos. Eh? (Raisesfoot.) Wiv dat ar’ foot? 

Bangs. (Sketching.) Yep. Go ahead. 

Mos. Oh, wont I? (Sniffins has started to sneak up C. y 
when Mosley catches him and runs him out C. D. Big crash.) 

Enter Corporal, R. U. E. 

Corp. What the divil an’ all is going on, I dunno? 
(Looks off C.) Ah, it’s a nagur having some fun wid some¬ 
body. Well, it’s not my funeral. (Comes down.) Begorry, 
wid a clane shave, clane clothes an’ a good slape I don’t 
belave anybody— (sees Bangs) Ah, Lard, there’ s somebody! 
(Starts up C.) 

Bangs. What’s the matter? 

Corp. (Stops.) The saints presarve us av it ain’t— 


/ 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 49 

Bangs. George Washington, and-so-forth Bangs. What 
are you doing here ? 

Corp. Eschaping from Libby Prison. 

Bangs. Ah! A sensation! How did you get out? 

Corp. Aisyx enough. That divil of a Bradley was in 
charge. The Colonel choked the daylights out av him, 
filled up some blank passes, confiscated some clothing, an’ 
we walked roight out widout sayin’ boo! to anybody. 

Bangs. Good! Give me all the facts, and I’ll wire a 
page of it to the Herald. 

Corp. Well, ye see, about a wake ago— {listens.) Hould 
on, there’s somebody cornin’. Let’s git under cover. 
{They go up.) Av anybody saw me I moight be seen—come 
along. {Exeunt R. U. E.) 

Enter Helen and Mrs. Dusenberry, L. i E. 

Mrs. D. Now, Helen, mark my words: You’ll get into 
trouble by this. 

Helen. I’ll chance it. 

Mrs. D. But think of the risk you run. It’s a terrible 
thing helping prisoners to escape. {They sit.) 

Helen. I hardly think we will be followed. The end is 
too near at hand. From what I saw and heard in Richmond 
I doubt if the city holds out for a week. If Grant knew 
what a poor, weak little army we have to oppose him, he 
would crash through our lines at any time. 

Mrs. D. Good gracious! And then the Yankees will 
hang the whole of us, I suppose. 

Helen. Don’t be alarmed, aunt. This war, terrible as 
it is, has opened the eyes of both the North and South. 
We have learned that the Northern men are mudsills,” 
and that Northern valor is worthy of respect. They have 
learned that we are not all braggarts, that we can fight 
against overpowering numbers, and hold our own to the 


4 


5 ° 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


last. And when the war is over, when partisan strife has 
ended, I believe that the blue and the gray will be united in 
bonds of friendship which no political tricksters can ever 
rend asunder! 

Mrs. D. I declare, Helen, you’re quite an orator. If 
we down-trodden women ever get our rights we’ll make a 
Congressman—I mean a Congresswoman—of you, sure. 

Helen. (Laughing.) Very well, aunt, but for the pres¬ 
ent let us confine ourselves to the kitchen. I wonder if we 
can get up a respectable meal for our guests? 

Mrs. D. I don’t know. They’ve stolen all our chickens 
except one lonely old rooster, and he takes to the woods 
every time he sees anybody. (Fxeufit L .) 

Enter Bradley and Billings, D. F. Bradley carries a 

, heavy riding whip. 

Brad. Nobody here, eh? Well, I’ll soon rout them out. 
Billings! 

Bill. (Comes down.) Yes, sir. 

Brad. See that the house is thoroughly surrounded. I 
expect that our prisoners are in hiding here. 

Bill. Yes, sir. (Salutes a?id goes up.) 

Brad. Billings! 

Bill, (Pauses at D. F.) Yes, sir. 

Brad. Allow no one to pass. And should the Yankees 
try to escape, shoot them down like dogs. We’ve lost Rich¬ 
mond, but we may yet kill a few of the curs. 

Bill. Yes, sir. (Exits D. F.) 

Brad. They must be here. They could have escaped in 
no other direction. To be throttled like a child by that 
half-starved wretch—and in her presence, too! I wish the 
dog had a thousand lives, so that I might hang him for 
every one of them! 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


5 1 

Enter Sniffins, D. F. He is very much battered—black eye , 

torn clothing , etc. 

Brad. Well, what’s happened to you? 

Snif, (Dismally.) What’s happened? Everything. 

Brad. You look as if you had been mixed up with a 
tornado. 

Snif. No —but I’ve been mixed up with a nigger! 
(Groans.) I never guessed a nigger could fight afore, but 
that air black cuss was a reg’lar thrashing machine. 

Brad. Well, go and lie down. 

Snif. (Goes L.) No, I wont. I’ll go ’n see if I can 
find enough arnica for a bath. (Exits L. i £., yells and re¬ 
enters quickly.) Oh, Major! There’s another one! 

Enter Susannah, L. i E. 

Snif. Don’t let her get hold of me! (Gets behind 

Bradley.) 

Sus. (Aside.) Golly! Reckon dat ar man's gotter jim 
jims, sho’s yo’ born. 

Brad. Clear out! She wont hurt you. 

Snif. (Goes up R.) All right, Major. ’Taint because 
I’m afraid o’ niggers, ’cause I aint. (Susannah starts 
toward him. He yells and runs off , R. U. E ., upsetting screen 
as he goes.) 

Sus. (C.) Ki, yi! He ain’t skeer’d o’ niggers! No, sah! 
(Going up C.) 

Brad. (Z.) Come here, girl. 

Sus. (Returning ) Yes, massa. 

Brad. Where’s your mistress ? 

Sus. Aint got none now, massa. We nigs is all free. 

Brad. (Snaps whip suggestively.) Where—is—your— 

mistress ? 

Sus. (Runs R.) Oh, don’t, massa! she’s—she’s in de 
kitchen. 



52 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


Brad. Good. Now, where are the Yankee prisoners 
she brought here ? 

Sus. De—de—de—what? 

Brad. (Sternly.) The Yankee prisoners, I said. 

Sus. Fo’ de Lo’d sake! Hes—hes Miss Helen been 
cotchin’ Yanks? 

Brad. None of that. Tell me where they are, or I’ll cut 
you into shoestrings. 

Sus. (Slowly.) You kin kill me, massa, but I’ll tell yo’ 
nuffin. 

Brad. We’ll see about that! (Drags her to C. and flings 
her to floor.) Now will you answer? 

Sus. (Rises to her knees.) No, I wont. 

Brad. Eh, you wont ? (Flhigs off hat, pulls up sleeves and 
grasps whip firmly.) For the last time—where are they? 
(Susannah, still on knees, buries face in hands.) Then, you 
black devil, take that! (Strikes her with whip. She utters a 
half repressed scream. At that moment Harvey rushes on, 
R. U. E., snatches whip from Bradley, hurls him L., a?id 
lashes him two or three times over the head a?id shoulders. Su¬ 
sannah rises and goes up R.) 

Har. There’s your answer! (Bradley draws revolver 
and fires quickly at Harvey, but ?nisses. Harvey springs on 
him. They clutch and struggle. At the same moment a volley 
is fired outside, followed by several scattering shots. Bradley 
breaks away, drops revolver, and rushes up C., meeting Mosley, 
who enters C. D., with pitchfork.) 

Mos. Surrender! (Aims pitchfork.) Surrender, er I 
punch yo’ full o’ holes. 

Har. What’s up, uncle? (Bradley goes down L., Su¬ 
sannah exit, R. U. E.) 

Mos. Some o’ Gineral Sheridan’s cav’ry done come up, 
’n de rebs done scooted. 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


53 


Enter Corporal, R. U. E ., dragging on Sniffins. 

Corp. (To Sniffins.) Don’t you stir—don’t you wink, 
or I’ll knock yer hid off. (To Mosley.) Say! (They con¬ 
verse in dumb show.) 

Har. Well, Major, the tables-have turned at last. 

Brad. That’s self-evident. What are you going to do 
with me ? 

Corp. (Looking arou?id.) Hang him, begorry! 

Enter Helen, Z. i E. 

Helen. (Crossi?ig to Harvey.) Oh, Harvey! Are you 
safe ? 

Har. (Taking her hands.) Safe and sound. (They go R.) 

Brad. (Aside.) Curse the fellow! 

Mos. (Joyfully to Corporal.) Yes, sah, yo’ kin hab my 
ole fedder bed, ’n dar’s er whole bucket o’ tar. 

Corp. (Yanks Sniffins to R. C.) All roight. Kim 
along. 

Snif (Frightened.) Y—y—you aint a goin’ to tar an’ 
feather me, be you ? 

Corp. Niver ye moind. Ye’ll hev a nice warrum over¬ 
coat, so ye will. 

Snif. Colonel! Major! Don’t let ’em! (Is dragged off 
C. D. by Corporal and Mosley.) 

Har. Now, Helen, what shall we do with him? 

Helen. Let him go, Harvey. He can do us no further 
injury. 

Enter Bangs, excitedly , C. D. 

Bangs. You bet he can’t. Lee’s gobbled up at last— 
just surrendered—and I’ve wired seventeen pages to the 
Herald. ( Writes excitedly on pad .) 

Brad. You have overpowered us by numbers, but the 
South is not conquered, and never will be. (Exits C. D.) 


54 


DOWN IN DIXIE. 


Enter Molly, R. U. E . 

Molly. Bangsy! 

Bangs. Molly! (They embrace, L. C.) 

Har. (With Helen, R. C .) Ah, Helen, my love, peace 
has come at last, and ( impressively ) the star spangled banner 
in triumph does wave over the land of the free and the home 
of the brave. (Music, “ Star Spangled Banner. ”) 


Curtain. 



unqinmn DPfP^PD than the scrap boor 

nU i ninIt Mil ml recitation series. 

BY H, 2WT. SOPER. 


PRICE, POST PAID, PAPER, 25 CENTS 


■•‘The selections are choice in quality and in large variety.”— Inter-Ocean , Chicago. 
“It excels anything we have seen for the purpose.”— Eclectic Teacher. 

J ‘The latest and best things from our popular writers appear here.”— Normal Teacher . 


CONTENTS OF NO. 1 


Keep the Mill A-going (Fine Poem). 

Faces in the Fire (Fine Poem). 

In School Days (Fine Poem). 

The Two Roads (Fine Prose). 

Extreme Unction. 

Baron Grimalkin’s Death (Parody). 

Words and Their Uses (Humorous Poem). 
Fritz’s Troubles. 

Two Christmas Eves (Fine Poem). 
Interview Between School Directors and 
Janitor 

To the Memory of the late Brigham Young. 
How Liab and I Parted. 

Old Grimes’ Hen (Funny). 

The Average Modern Traveler. 

At My Mother’s Grave (Pathos). 

The Newsboy’s Debt (Pathetic Poem'). 
Mrs. Potts’ Dissipated Husband (Comic). 

I See the Point. 

The Professor in Shafts (Humorous). 

Mr. Sprechelheimer’s Mistake (Dialect). 
God’s Time. 

The Little Folks’ (Thanksgiving Poem). 
The Old Schoolmaster. 

The Revolutionary Rising. 

Pat’s Letter (Comic). 

How to Go to Sleep (Comic). 

Nothing (Poem). 

De Pen and De Swoard (Funny). 

A Greyport Legend—1797. 

The Life Boat is a Gallant Bark. 

Birthday Gifts. 

The Superfluous Man. 

Sockery Setting a Hen (Comic). 

The 7 /ater that Has Passed. 

Medley—Mary’s Little Lamb 
The Launch of the Ship. 

Aunt Kindly (Fine Pathos)/ 

Evening at the Farm (Poem) 

Battle of Beal An’ Duine. 

Pasring Away. 

Mark Twain and the Interviewer (Very 
Funny). 


Daybreak. 

True Life. 

Modern Loyalty (Satiric Poem, Good). 
Unfinished Still. 

Allow for the Crawl (Humorous Poem), 
The Silent Tower of Bottreaux. 

Gentility. 

The Drunkard (Poem). 

The Poetical Patch Quilt. 

What Is Life ? 

Art Thou Living Yet? (Poem). 

New Year’s Chime. 

Song of the Chimney (Comic). 

A Domestic Tempest. 

Common Sense. 

How Mr. Coffin Spelled it (Funny). 

The Old Man in the Palace Car. 

Ego and Echo (Comic Poem). 

A Night Picture. 

A Penitent. 

Rum’s Ruin (Fine Temperance Poe»), 

The Babies (Humorous). 

What Is It to Me ? 

Our First Commander (Patriotic). 
Horseradish (Comic). 

The Doom of Claudius and Cynthia (Pta« 
Description.) 

Weaving The Web (Fine Poem). 

Broken Home (Pathetic). 

Dream of Eugene Aram (Poem of Great 
Beauty). 

An Expensive Chicken (Humorous). 
Faithful Little Wife. 

Money Musk (Humorous Poem). 

Resisting a Mother’s Love (Fine Pathol. 
Spring (Poem). 

The Deacon’s Call (Fine Poem). 

The Ghost (Humorous Poem). 

The Bridge. 

Keenan’s Charge. 

The Father of His Country (A Play). 


T. S. DENISON, Publisher, 

163 Randolph St., - - CHICAGO. 






THAN THE 
SCBAP . BOOZ 

FJegict action Series 

BY M- M. SOPER. 

ALL SORTS OF GOOD THINGS. 

CONTENTS OF NO. 2. PRICE POST-PAID, PAPER, 25 CENTS. 



Albert Drecker (Pathetic). 

Better in the Morning (Pathetic). 

Blue Sky Somewhere. 

Wounded (Battle Poem). 

Papa’s Letter (Pathetic). 

Grandfather’s Reverie (Pathetic). 

The Old Village Choir. 

At the Party. 

Romance at Home (Humorous). 

The Legend of the Organ Builder. 

I Vash So Glad I Vash Here (Very Hum¬ 
orous). 

Der Dog und der Lobster (Humorous). 

What Was His Creed ? 

Dedication of Gettysburg Cemetery. 

Time Turns the Table (Excellent). 

The Man Who Hadn’t any Objection 
(Humorous). 

The Soldier’s Mother (Sentimental). 

“ De Pervisions, Josiar ” (Humorous). 

A Response to Beautiful Snow (Sentimental). 
The Defense of Lucknow (Heroic). 

A Model Discourse (Humorous). 

My Darling’s Shoes. 

The Volunteer Soldiers of the Union. 

Life (Compilation). 

The Old-Fashioned Mother. 

De ’Sperience ob de Reb’rend Quacko 
Strong (Humorous). 

A Heart to Let. 

Timmy Butler and the Owl (Humorous), 
presentiments (Pathetic). 

Cloquence cr Oratory. 

Raising the Flag at Sumter, 
farrhasius and the Captive. 

Portent. 

He Wasn’t Ready (Humorous). 

The Old Clock in the Corner. 

An Illustration (Fine Description). 

The Seven Stages. 

The Bells of Shandon. 


Circumlocution on the House that Jack 
Built (Fine). 

The Brakeman goes to Church, (Humorous) 
Address to Class of ’77, Knox College. 

Bay Billy, (Battle Incident). 

The Flood and the Ark (Humorous Darky 
Sermon). 

The Steamboat Race. 

Battle of Gettysburg. 

A Connubial Eclogue (Humorous). 

The Chambered Nautilus. 

Ascent of Fu-si Yama. 

The Musician’s Tale (Splendid Sea Tale) 
Vera Victoria. 

Ruining the Minister’s Parrot (Very 
Funny). 

The Irish Philosopher (Humorous). 

TEMPERANCE PIECES. 

Confession of a Drunkard. 

The Fatal Glass. 

The Gambler’s Wife. 

Dream of the Reveler. 

The Lost Steamer. 

One Glass More. 

I'll Take what Father Takes. 

A Glass of Cold Water. 

The Glass Railroad. 

Signing the Pledge. 

The War with Alcohol. 

A Tragedy. 

Only a Glass of Cider. 

Traffic in Ardent Spirits. 

Why ? 

Pat’s Bondsman. 

The Modern Cain. 

We do not Stop to Think. 

The Fate of a Fast Young Man. 
Lemonade. 

Hurrah for the Foorth av July, 

Charybdis. 


T. S. DENISON, Publisher, 

163 Randolph Street, CHICAGO. 




ETHIOPIAN PLAYS. 


Price 15 Cents Each, Postpaid. 


These plays are all short, and very funny. Little or no stage 
apparatus is required. The number of darkies is given in those plays in 
which white characters occur. 


STAGE STRUCK DARKEY. 

A very funny burlesque on high act¬ 
ing; 2 m., 1 f. Time, 10 m. Three 
negroes play Claude Melnotte, Lady 
Macbeth, Macduff, “Lucimicus,” Damon 
and Pythias, etc. 

STOCKS UP—STOCKS DOWN. 

2 m. A played-out author and his 
sympathizing friend. Time, S m. Very 
funny and full of business.’ Ludicrous 
description of a fire. 

DEAF—IN A HORN. 

2 m. Negro musician and a deaf pupil. 
Time, S m. The “pupil” has a large horn 
which he uses for an ear trumpet, pre¬ 
tending to be very deaf. By stratagem 
the teacher causes him to hear suddenly. 

HANDY ANDY. 

2 m.. master and servant. Time. 12 m. 
Servant makes all sorts of ludicrous mis¬ 
takes, and misunderstands every order. 

THE MISCHIEVOUS NIGGER. 

A very popular farce; 4 m., 2 f Time, 
20 m. (Only one darky, the mischievous 
nigger.) Scene : Chamber and bedroom 
off. Requires two sham babies. Char¬ 
acters : Antony Snow (the nigger), old 
man, French barber, Irishman, nurse, 
Mrs. Norton. 

THE SHAM DOCTOR. 

A negro farce; 4 m., 2 f. Time, 15 m. 
Liverheel turns doctor, and practices on 
“old Johnson.” The sham doctor wiil 
' -ring down the house. 

NO CURE, NO PAY. 

3 m. (1 darky), 1 f. Time, 10 m. Will 

it the most fastidious; a good piece for 

100I or parlor. 

HAUNTED HOUSE. 

m , landlord and a whitewasher (also 

^ 3 ghosts.) Time, 8 m. The white- 
washer disco ers spirits in a house where 
he is at work, and is frightened badly in 
consequence. 

AN UNHAPPY PAIR. 

3 m. (and males for a band ) Time, 10 
in. Tw’o hungry “ niggers” strike the 
musicians for a square meal. Good for 
school or parlor. Very funny; ends with 
a burlesque duet. 


THE TWO POMPEYS. 

4 m. Time, S m. A challenge to a 
duel is worked up in a very humorous 
manner until the courage oozes out of the 
duellists. 

TRICKS. 

A negro farce; 5 m,, 2 f. Time, 10 m. 
(Only 2 darkies, 1 m., x f.) 

THE JOKE ON SQUINIM. 

A negro farce (Black Statue improved), 
by W. B Sheddaw; 4 m., 2 f. Time, 25 
m. Scenes: A barn and a plain room. 

QUARRELSOME SERVANTS. 

3 m. Time, 8 m Mr. Jenkins is un¬ 
able to procure servants who will not 
quarrel. He advertises for a male cook 
and an hostler. The interview with the 
candidates is uproariously comical. 

SPORTS ON A LARK. 

3 m. Time, 8 m. Two niggers who 
are dead broke meet and get acquainted. 
Business is very lively and taking. 

OTHELLO AND DESDEMONA. 

2 m. Tin; % 12 m. A side-splitting 
burlesque on the chamber scene in 
Othello. The strangling of “Desdemo- 
na” will bring down the house every 
time. 

BACK FROM GALIFORNY; Or, Old 
Clothes. 

3 m. Time, 12 m. Things get badly 
mixed and the clothes are locked in the 
wrong trunks. 

UNCLE JEFF. 

A farce. 5 m. f2 negroes,) 2 f. Time, 
25 m. A very popular farce. 

AIL EXPENSES; Or Nobody's Son. 

2 m. Time, 10 m. Artemus Buz is a 
manager, and Jemius Fluticus applies for 
a situation in his company. Very funny. 

PROF. BLACK’S FUNNY GRAPH. 

A nigger burlesque on the phonograph; 
6 m., and niggers for audience (on the 
stage). Time, 15 m. 

JUMBO JUM. 

A farce. 4 m. (1 negro), 3 f. Time, 30 
m. A popular farce wherever negro 
humor of the stage type is appreciated. 


T. S. DENISON, Publisher, 163 Randolph Street, CHICAGO. 




























Any Play on this List 15 Cts. 


Plays by T. S. DENISON. 

That the plays written by T. S. Deni¬ 
son are, all things considered, the best 
for amateurs, is attested by their very 
large and increasing sale. 

ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 

A drama in five acts; 7 male and 4 
Tcmale characters. Time, 2 hours. 

SETH GREENBACK. 

A drama in 4 acts; 7 male and 3 fe¬ 
male Time, 1 h., 15 m. 

INITIATING A GRANGER. 

A ludicrous farce; 8 male. Time, 25 m. 

WANTED, A CORRESPONDENT. 

A farce in 2 acts; 4 male, 4 female. 
Time, 45 m. 

A FAMILY STRIKE. 

\ farce,3 male, 3 female. Time, 20 m. 

TWO GHOSTS IN WHITE. 

A humorous farce, boarding school 
life; S female characters. Time, 25 m. 

THE ASSESSOR. 

A humorous sketch; 3 male and 2 fe¬ 
male. Time, 10 in. 

BORROWING TROUBLE. 

A ludicrous farce; 3 male and 5 fe¬ 
male. Time, 20 m. 

COUNTRY JUSTICE. 

Amusing country lawsuit ; S male 
characters. (May admit 11.) Time, 15 m. 

THE PULL-BACK. 

A laughable farce; 6 female. Time, 
20 m. 

HANS VON SMASH. 

A roaring farce in a prologue and one 
act; 4 male and 3 female. Time, 30 m. 

OUR COUNTRY. 

A patriotic drama. Requires to male* 
5 female. (Admits ir m. 15 f.) Four fine 
tableaux. Time about 1 hour. 

THE SCHOOLMA’AM. 

A brilliant comedy in 4 acts; 6 male, 5 
female. Time 1 hour, 45 in. 

THE IRISH LINEN PEDDLER. 

A lively farce; 3 male, 3 female. Time 
40 m. 

THE KANSAS IMMIGRANTS. 

A roaring farce; 5 male, 1 female. 
Time, 20 m. 

TOO MUCH OP A GOOD THING. 

A capital farce ; 3 male, 6 female. 
Time, 45 m. 



AN ONLY DAUGHTER. 

A drama in 3 acts; 5 male and 2 fe - 
male. Time, 1 hour, 15 m. 

PETS OF SOCIETY. 

A farce; 7 female. Time, 25 m- 

HARD CIDER. 

A very amusing temperance sketch; 4 
male, 2 female. Time, 10 m. 

LOUVA, THE PAUPER 

A drama in 5 acts; 9 male and 4 fe¬ 
male characters. Time, 1 hour, 45 m. 

UNDER THE LAURELS. 

A drama in five acts; a stirring play, 
fully equal to Louva the Pauper. Five 
male, 4 female. Time, 1 hour, 45 m. 

THE SPARKLING CUP. 

A temperance drama in five acts; 12 
male and 4 female. Time 2 h. 

THE DANGER SIGNAL. 

A drama; 7 male, 4 female. Time, 2 h. 

WIDE ENOUGH FOR TWO. 

A farce; 5 male, 2 female. Time, 45 ru. 

BOOKS FOR ENTERTAINMENTS. 

WORK AND PLAY, 

For little folks. Exercises in letters, 
numbers, objects, geography, animals, 
motion-songs, dialogues, charades, etc., 
etc., postpaid, 50c. 

PRANKS AND PASTIMES. 

For home, school or church. Nearly 
100 games, charades, scenes, etc., 50c. 

Negro Minstrel Book, 25c. 

Social Games at Cards, 35c. 

Private Theatricals, how to get up, 
25c. 

WHEN LESSONS ARE OVER. 

Dialogues, Plays, N uts to Crack, 25c. 

ENCHANTED WOOD. 

Bright, New Opera. Price, 35c. 

Dialect Readings, humorous, 25c. 

THE FRIDAY DIALOGUES. 

Short, lively. Boys and Girls. Price 25c. 

FRIDAY AFTERNOON SPEAKFR. 

For little folks, for older lo,..4 gtn> 

short, pithy dialogues. Price 25c. 

Dialogues from Dickens, 25c. 
Shadow Pictures, Pantomimes, Tab¬ 
leaux, etc., etc , 25c. 

Choice Pieces for Little People, 26c. 
School and Parlor Tableaux, 25c. 
Debater’s Handbook, cloth, 50c. 
Everybody’s Letter Writer, 30c. 
Good Manners, paper cover, 30c. 


T. S. DENISON, Publisher, 163 Randolph Street, CHICAGO. 


# 

































